


Surviving Sunday

by twinchaosblade



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canonical Character Death, Drama, Episode Tag, Fix-It, Gen, Hurt Carson Beckett, Hurt/Comfort, Spoilers 3.17 (Sunday), Team Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-20
Updated: 2015-03-20
Packaged: 2018-03-18 17:13:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 32,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3577446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twinchaosblade/pseuds/twinchaosblade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Different ending for 3.17, ‘Sunday’: lots of Carson whump, team angst/drama, mainly Sheppard and McKay though; happy ending guaranteed!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** Being the property of their respective copyright holders, _Stargate: Atlantis_ , its characters or any other publicly recognizable names don’t belong to me in any way, shape or form. This was written for the sole purpose of entertainment, not monetary gain. No copyright infringement is intended.  
> ~ Me owning _Stargate: Atlantis_? If only…! Then no one would have to fear for their lives, especially not a certain Scottish doctor, unless for whump’s sake of course…!
> 
>  **A/N:** Although I have put some effort in the research of the medical stuff, please keep in mind I’m in no way claiming to have appropriate knowledge of what I’m writing about, and some things are plainly for dramatic purposes.
> 
>  **Spoilers:** through 3.17, ‘Sunday’ ( _obviously_ )

A muffled detonation, the crackling static in the radio…   
All of them knew instantly what this sudden silence meant but they didn’t dare even think of it, breathlessly hoping it would not come true as long as they refused to believe it. None of them moved or said a word. For an endless moment they stared blankly into nothingness, desperately waiting for the familiar voice that never came…

xXxXx

The man who had touched so many hearts, who had healed so many bodies and minds was gone. How could the world not fall to ruin? How could it not have shattered at this loss? How could the world survive without its kindest soul?  
But time moved on, taking no heed, mercilessly ignoring the people reeling in pain. Twice the sun had gone down, and twice the sun had risen again, and there was still no waking from the never-ending nightmare.

Discreetly looking at the faces of the people gathered in the Gateroom for Carson’s memorial, Elizabeth sensed they all shared this feeling. No matter how hard some of them tried to hide it, she could see beyond their façade of suppressed emotions. Even Atlantis seemed to feel the loss.

As the pall-bearers were about to lift the coffin and make their way through the gate, bracing themselves for the burden far heavier on their hearts than the casket’s physical weight, Elizabeth’s radio crackled.

“Dr Weir, sis is Doctor Gitano,” a voice said in less than perfect English.

The expedition leader was outright annoyed to say the least at the completely inappropriate disturbance in the middle of the memorial service for one of her closest friends. Without waiting for an answer, Dr Gitano continued, “Please report at once at se infirmary, and bring Colonel Sheppard and Doctor McKay along. Sis is urgent. Gitano out.”

Rodney and John shot her a highly bemused glance at the inadequate interruption when Elizabeth called for them. Startled looks and a rising murmur accompanied the three of them as they headed for the infirmary with Teyla and Ronon following suit. The Satedan was fuming, determined to inflict a cruel fate upon whoever had dared to show such disrespect for the fallen.

xXxXx

Upon arriving at the infirmary, Dr Gitano met the group on the doorstep with a shy smile. While in Sheppard’s eyes annoyed irritation was predominant, McKay’s displayed open hatred for the doctor, and even Weir’s glance would have slain a Wraith. Teyla leaned heavily on Ronon, audibly panting, pain and distress engraved in her weary expression. Clearly intimidated by the sight of them, the elderly doctor had to swallow hard before he was able to speak.

“I… am… sorry,” he stammered, leading them to the intensive care area of the infirmary, “but as I said, sis is urgent. I need you to see sis.” When the physician drew back the curtain surrounding the bed, Elizabeth gave a cry, her hands flying to her mouth. Equally shocked, the others gasped in surprise…

A broad smile spread on the drained face of the man lying in the bed. “Still here…,” he whispered barely audible with a shaky, hoarse voice.

“Carson…?!?” John was the first to recover, disbelief obvious in his flabbergasted voice. He was not sure whether or not he could trust his eyes and ears. True, the past few days had been hard and he hadn’t slept since… − then… but were his eyes playing nasty tricks on him? What he saw before him was beyond possibility; it couldn’t be, he couldn’t hope for it to be true. The wave of contradictory feelings that washed over him seemed to overwhelm him. Bereft of words, he turned to McKay for help, searching the physicist’s eyes. Yet Rodney was in no state to offer John what he desperately sought. McKay stood there like a salt statue, pale as the sheets, expressionlessly staring at the bed. With his mouth open, he looked stricken, taking no notice of his surroundings or the others, who were in no better shape. Only Ronon seemed to have preserved at least the slightest grip on the real world, a genuine smile making its way from his mouth to the eyes.

“How… I mean… this is… how could… this… possible…?” Despite his best efforts, Rodney’s attempt to form a coherent sentence failed miserably.

“I hones’ly have ne idea,” came Carson’s soft reply, his slurred voice revealing he was heavily drugged.

In the background they heard another astounded exclaim, which shook them at last out of their apathy. Dr Cole had entered and was beside herself at the unexpected surprise.

“You look like shit, doc.” John’s teasing remark earned him a faint but hearty grin before the Scot’s eyes slowly drifted shut. The initial euphoria having subsided a bit, Sheppard had worriedly noticed for the first time how bad Carson looked, his face terribly swollen and as red as a cooked lobster, the rest of his body hidden under the bed sheets. John met Rodney’s eyes, perceiving that, beside the boundless relief they all felt, McKay had just realized exactly the same.

Dr Gitano silently called for the team’s attention and motioned them to leave. Obediently they followed him to another corner.


	2. Chapter 2

John Sheppard was pacing, always striding a dozen of steps in one direction, turning on his heel and striding a dozen of steps in the opposite direction. He behaved like a caged cheetah. Sitting on one of the infirmary chairs in the waiting area with his legs outstretched, Ronon shot him a dangerous look, silently renewing the threat which had Rodney caused to sit down just moments ago. Of course Dex felt every bit as anxious as the other two men but their impatient behaviour pulled at his nerves, even more than the uncertainty and this seemingly endless waiting. Feeling the imminent peril of being knocked out by the Satedan if he didn’t stop, John sighed heavily and perched on the seat between Ronon and Rodney. With a concerned expression he still tried to make sense of what little Dr Gitano and some resolute young marine had told them.

The clearing-up team had discovered Carson in a clothes locker in that very corridor, only a few feet away from the explosion… The doors of the locker had been bent out of shape from both the impact and the heat. In order to recover its content and see whether it was still in working order, they had opened the doors forcefully. What the startled men had found inside had taken their breath away. Within the compartment closest to the explosion the unconscious form of their CMO had sat crouched on the floor, his back against the sidewall, arms and legs resting against the locker’s back and door. The pitiful sight and the stench of burnt flesh and fabric as well as molten plastic almost made the men nauseous. None of them suspected the doctor was still alive, believing they had at last come across the body which they had not been able to locate until now.

Sergeant Meagre had stepped forward, volunteering for the thankless task of retrieving the body from the locker. Briefly closing his eyes he had readied himself, hesitating once again before he had reached out for the motionless form… and jumped back with a surprised gasp. “Im- p…possible…”, he had stammered white as a sheet. At his touch the presumed dead CMO had felt hot and let out the faintest of groans.

“Medical emergency in corridor 4b, infirmary floor! Hurry!” The others had gazed at him in total shock as the meaning of his words had sunk in.

When the doctors had arrived, they had been expecting anything but what they were presented with. Wide-eyed and unbelieving they had stared at their boss lying in the locker. It had taken a moment before they had busied themselves with assessing Carson’s condition, administering drugs and providing him with infusions. Upon reaching the trauma room, the attending physicians quickly perceived that Beckett had suffered severe burns and was running a high fever but wasn’t in immediate danger. Therefore the acting chief medic had decided to first inform Dr Weir of their discovery and call in Dr Cole to assist him in the more thorough analysis of his patient’s condition. Adding to their complete astonishment, Carson had regained consciousness and appeared relatively lucid by the time Dr Gitano had called for Elizabeth and the others to come to the infirmary. So the Columbian doctor had reluctantly agreed to let Beckett have his way and surprise his friends himself.

Now John, Rodney and Ronon were impatiently waiting for the results of the examination, shifting in their seats, longing to hear something more definite than the vague answers Dr Gitano had given them. It’s been more than one hour since they had been banned from the intensive care area, yet it felt like years. Why in all good heavens did time have to crawl by at snail’s pace when you were desperately waiting for something?!

About half an hour ago, Teyla had dozed off and was gently put into her bed by Ronon. Elizabeth had, despite her urge to stay, gone to resume her duties as the expedition leader, knowing she had to contact earth and notify the others who were still waiting at the memorial. The prospect of all the paperwork alone gave her a tension headache but one she gladly embraced. Actually, it seemed a small prize for the life of a dear friend.

xXxXx

Another half-hour passed without any news. Sheppard had begun pacing once more, unable to keep still. In fact, he hadn’t managed to sit for more than five minutes before getting up again. He needed to do something, anything. Claiming the same rights as John, Rodney had without hesitation joined the colonel in walking up and down the small room. Ronon had long given up trying to confine them to their seats, realizing this was an exercise in futility. ‘At least’, the Satedan dryly reflected, ‘McKay had stopped babbling.’ They all were very aware of the fact that Rodney worked his mouth a mile a minute to deal with the tension of a given situation but for his team mates his speed-talk attacks were unbearable, especially now. So Ronon wasn’t surprised at all when John had seconded his threat to shoot Rodney with his blaster, even leaving it open to the shocked scientist whether he would bother to set it to stun first. McKay had looked hurt and started to gesture wildly with his hands, another typical reaction, but he had shut up.

A deep growl emitted from Ronon’s throat to express his disapproval to the pacing, which considerably added to his own nervousness. At that moment Dr Cole entered, looking exhausted and worried. The trio wheeled around to face her, concerned and plainly afraid of what they might hear. She forced a reassuring smile, lack of conviction obvious in her eyes.

They followed the young physician across the infirmary towards Beckett’s office, every single step increasing their unease. John couldn’t help but think of the proverbial lamb led to the slaughter; only this time none of them walking down the quiet floor was the one whose life was at stake. ‘How fitting… she already claims his office for her own…’ Rodney brushed away the unsettling thought. Defeat was close but not yet at hand.

Once inside, Dr Cole shut the door, taking her time as she moved, clearly grateful for the short delay. When she faced the three men again, whose expressions ranged between mad with worry, impatient and quizzical, she knew there was no way to hold back the answers any longer. The answers they had desperately waited for, the answers they needed, the answers they deserved.

She sighed, hesitating once more before she finally spoke. “Dr Beckett is stable… for now.” The last part of her statement almost lost in the understandable relief.

John released the breath he didn’t even know he was holding, noticing with a grin that beside him Rodney and Ronon also exhaled audibly. ‘So far for the good news’, Sheppard added silently, preparing himself for the bad part, which he knew was about to come. The doctor had been far too serious and cheerless to not having a hard blow in store. As usual, McKay had also sensed the adversative nature of Dr Cole’s words.

“But…?” Rodney prompted.

She sighed deeply. “Okay, no more beating about the bush.” Another pause, another sigh. This was hard on her as well. “Dr Beckett has suffered some very serious burns, mainly on his back, his left arm and leg, in fact everywhere he came in contact with the hot metal of the locker. These are third degree. Because of the heat that was trapped within the compartment, every part of his body that was not covered with clothes, such as his face, neck and arm, suffered from minor burns, first and second degree. His respiratory tract was also affected detrimentally when he inhaled the heat, making it difficult for him to breathe.” She paused for an instant, carefully eying Dr McKay, who had gone paler with every word.

“Maybe you want to take a seat before I continue”, the physician offered to no one in particular. Even Sheppard and Ronon welcomed the pause to collect themselves. They all sat down except for Dr Cole, who remained standing.

“Dr Beckett has lost a huge amount of fluid and runs a high fever from the poisoning of his system. But there are also symptoms of poisoning probably caused by inhaling the gas emitted from the molten plastic coat hangers.”

“How so?”, the Satedan interrupted.

“How so what?” Dr Cole asked back.

Ronon straightened on his chair. “Well, you told us something about poisoning his system. Why? What is poisoning his system?”

“Look”, the doctor began, “roughly 23 percent of his body suffered from burns of various degrees.” She ignored the sharp breath Rodney took in. “To counter the heat, the body floods the affected parts with fluid. This fluid contains lots of protein, which eventually breaks down into its poisonous components, these are spread across the whole body by the blood, causing a dangerous poisoning of the entire system. In serious cases this leads to renal failure, respiratory as well as cardiac arrest and ultimately death. In order to compensate the loss of fluid and to counter the poisoning, which causes the multi-organ failure, one must provide the patient with as much IV solution as possible. And then there is also the high risk of infections to the wounds. These are the reasons why so many patients with severe burns die eventually, even if they survive the immediate effects. So, except for tending to the burns and pain management, there is nothing much a doctor can do but wait.”

“And what about Carson? How bad is it?” John brought them back on topic, his stomach cramping at what he had just heard.

“As I said”, Dr Cole’s voice broke. She swallowed hard and then went on. “About 23 percent of his body are burned. Some of his wounds are already showing signs of infection, which, to be honest, is not surprising. After all he spent two whole days in that locker with his burns untended. Actually, I still marvel at the fact that he was able to survive that long without medical attention. It’s nothing short of a wonder he didn’t die immediately of the shock! And then, despite the loss of fluid, pulling through for another two days… Well gentlemen, if you ever wanted to witness a miracle happen, here is one.”

“Yeah”, Rodney muttered, admiration mixing with worry, “he may not look it but our good doc is as tough as they come!”

“What about these 23 percent you keep mentioning?” Ronon wanted to have an answer, NOW!

“Right. 23 percent means… depending on the person, his general constitution, everything above 15 to 20 percent is life-threatening. Dr Beckett’s condition will deteriorate considerably in the next few days before it hopefully improves. It is serious, he is not out of the woods yet and won’t be for some time. But if no complications occur, I think he should make it.” There it was again, the forced smile that couldn’t convince them.

“Does he know?” McKay’s soft voice was hardly above a whisper. He was pretty sure he knew the answer already but couldn’t help asking anyway.

Dr Cole was no longer able to hold their questioning gaze and looked down to the floor as she replied just as softly. “I wish he didn’t.” A long pause followed before the lump in her throat allowed her to speak again. “He is in great pain but lucid. I mean I didn’t read his chart to him but he is too good a doctor to not know. In fact he’s the damn best physician I ever met. Dr Beckett certainly doesn’t know all the details but he is well aware of his condition and what lies ahead of him. No doubt, sometimes knowing all too well is a curse!”

A heavy silence spread in the small office. The three men needed some time to take in the information and its implications.

“Can we see him?”

The young doctor wanted to decline the request. Their CMO definitely needed to rest right now and gather all his remaining strength for the days to come. But knowing her boss would be overjoyed to see his friends, and looking at the stern faces, laden with concern, she hesitated and finally gave in. “Alright then, but only two of you, and only for a few minutes. I mean it.”

“I’ll tell Dr Weir and the others”, Ronon volunteered, leaving the room while speaking.

When Dr Cole turned to leave as well, John and Rodney immediately wanted to join her but she raised a hand, stopping them in their track. “Wait. Not so fast, Colonel, Doctor. First I’ll go check whether or not he is in any condition to receive visitors. Come back in half an hour and I’ll let you to him if he is fit enough.” With that she marched out of Carson’s office, leaving the two men at a loss.

Rodney looked wide-eyed at John, having no clue what he could do during that time. ‘Well, I could always get something to eat. Really, I’m starving.’ “Am headed for the mess hall. See you in 30 minutes”, he called to his perplexed friend while rushing out.

After McKay had left, Sheppard tried to come up with something he could do. Eating was out of the question, the mere thought of inflicting food upon his unsteady stomach was hideous.


	3. Chapter 3

Approximately 20 minutes later John was on his way to the mess hall, sure Rodney would still be there, filling his tummy with whatever was available. To his complete surprise he found McKay gone. ‘Maybe he is already on his way to the infirmary”, the colonel reflected. Patience was a virtue but certainly none Rodney McKay pursued.

Increasing his pace to not risk Rodney gaining access to the secluded area of the infirmary before him, he passed several corridors, coming to a sudden halt when a strange yet familiar sound to the right of him caught his attention. There was a small balcony, the door standing wide open. He strained his ears to listen more closely to the whispered words interspersed with soft sobs. ‘What was McKay doing out there?’ Realization hit him like a ton of bricks when he recognized some of the words: The always matter-of-fact-I-don’t-believe-in-anything-but-myself scientist was weeping… and what was more, praying.

Usually, this would have been a feast for John Sheppard, something he would have mercilessly used to his advantage but somehow it just filled him with wonder now. He himself had never felt the urge to imagine a higher being which was to blame for all the shit that had happened in his life, or to which he felt obliged to thank if he had come clear of a dangerous situation. But what he had witnessed today, the unexpected resurrection of one of his closest friends, could really make you believe! If there was such a thing as the perfect day to find your faith, this just might be very well it.

John resisted the desire to go outside and lay a reassuring hand on Rodney’s shoulder, knowing his friend would feel thoroughly embarrassed if he did. Therefore he decided to head for the infirmary instead and leave it to that. McKay would be right on his heels as soon as he got a grip on himself. Nothing in this universe would keep Rodney from seeing Carson in a few minutes; pity the poor soul who tried.

xXxXx

Rodney had ignored the unbelieving look on John’s face, just like the subsequent head shaking. He didn’t care that Sheppard was truly convinced his personal world only revolved around food. He wouldn’t have been able to tell him that he needed some time for himself anyway, exclusively reserved for his own thoughts. He had walked off with no idea at all where to go, simply pretending to purposefully go in a certain direction. Somehow he had ended up on this small balcony, absentmindedly staring at the sunset.

No one understood what it meant to him that Carson was still alive, not even John. True, he and John were close as anyone and there were a lot of things they shared. But with Beckett it was different. The gentle Scot was the sweetest soul one could imagine. Sometimes he was the biggest baby himself, especially when it came to using the control chair. He really was _the_ mother hen of Atlantis if ever there was one! And often enough his caring and compassionate behaviour drove Rodney crazy. How could someone with such a big heart and stupid integrity ever make it in life? His cheerful and forgiving demeanour was at times plainly outraging, when he shrugged off every insult thrown at him with an endearing smile.

Probably everyone in Atlantis was convinced John was Rodney’s closest friend, and he undoubtedly spent most of his time with the colonel, both on and off duty. So it was most likely true that Sheppard had become his best friend over the past three years but Carson felt more like a brother rather than a friend, a kindred soul somehow. Losing Beckett had ripped his heart apart; the fact that he was guilt-stricken for having treated Carson in such a shoddy way far too often and especially on his last day, adding to the feeling.

Now it seemed as though he was granted a second chance, a chance to do a better job letting Carson know how much he cared for him as well. Okay, Rodney was a realist, and teasing the dark-haired physician was way too much fun a habit to give up, but he was determined to enjoy the time with Beckett more consciously and never forget how awful it had felt to lose him. Before he had even realized it, he had begun to pray, tears of joy and despair streaming down his face. No, none of them understood what it meant to him…  
His watch beeped, interrupting his heartfelt reflections. With his right sleeve he wiped the tears away. It was time to pay Carson a visit.

xXxXx

Sheppard and Dr Cole already awaited him as Rodney entered the infirmary. John had a mischievous grin on his face, trying hard to refrain from mocking the physicist about his reddened eyes. For once he would let dignity get the better of him and spare McKay the embarrassment of revealing his knowledge.

Prior to leading the colonel and the doctor to the CMO, she had warned them to not touch any of the equipment and instantly clear the path for the medical personnel should any emergency arise. Further she had instructed them to at least attempt to conceal their concern or their shock at seeing him. The two friends had shared an uneasy glance, afraid at what they might find when Dr Cole thought it was necessary to tell them something so obvious.

Once they passed the curtain separating Carson’s bed from the rest of the intensive care section, they immediately understood why Dr Cole had felt the need to tip them off. The loveable Scot gave a truly pitiful sight, making the two visitors grateful for what little privacy the curtain offered. He was attached to many monitors and tubes, several IV poles were holding bags with solutions. Spread around the bed there were also some menacing machines, which weren’t currently online but obviously considered handy for later use or in case of an emergency. A nasal cannula provided the doctor with oxygen, his breathing was noticeably strained, and he had his eyes closed. His face and neck were still as swollen and red as they remembered it from earlier on. A wet cloth was placed over his brow to give Carson’s fever stricken head some comfort. Lying above the blanket, only the IV ports protruded from his fully bandaged arms, on the left side not even the fingertips were visible. As before, the rest of his body was hidden under the sheets.

When Rodney and John approached the bed and silently slid down on the two chairs, Carson opened his eyes. Amidst the red of his face, their pale blue colour appeared bluer than ever, almost mesmerizing. In spite of the evident pain displayed in his features, the usual cheerful sparkle in his eyes was still present.

“Och, don’ ye look a’ me tha’ way, lads”, Carson croaked. “Ye look worse than I feel, an’ that’s sayin’ somethin’.”

Sheppard and McKay exchanged a meaningful glance, unable to suppress a smirk. Before too long Sheppard broke the uneasy silence, “Can I ask you something, doc?”

“Go ahea’.

”How the hell did you manage to get into that damn locker?” John didn’t even try to hide his amazement.

Carson closed his eyes, for a moment intently searching his memory. When he opened them again, he took no heed of his visitors, apparently fixing some distant shadow through a thick veil, his voice strangely absent. “I don’ know about gettin’ in or bein’ in. I vaguely seem te remember the door o’ one o’ the compartments stood open when I went past it. Possibly someone was stuffin’ somethin’ inside when I ordered everyone te leave. I cannae tell you more, son. Sorry.”

“Guess what,” Rodney chimed in, face beaming at his sudden idea to lighten the mood. “We even had a bag-piper for your memorial service today!”

“McKay!” John was exasperated at Rodney’s thoughtless outburst, shooting him an annoyed glance immediately followed by a hard jab into his ribs. McKay cried out, playing innocent, completely unaware of his lack of tact.

Beckett couldn’t help a wholehearted chuckle at the comment and the scene. “You two are the death o’ me one day! Hones’ly, I’m touched but ye can jus’ as well send a bag-piper te me while I’m still alive.”

All of a sudden the curtain was drawn back, revealing nurse Chun So Mae. Despite her delicate physique, she gave a quite imposing image, standing there in the dim light, both hands steady on her hips. Startled the three men stared at her, innocent expression and wide grin on their faces.

“What is all the fuss and noise about?!” she inquired sternly.

“Sorry”, all three of them said with one voice, the apologetic tone lost in the playful laughter.

“That’s it, gentlemen!” Her grumpy tone left no room for discussion. “Time is up. You two shouldn’t be here anyway. Dr Beckett needs to rest.”

Knowing better than to push their luck any further, John and Rodney reluctantly rose from their seats.

“Get well soon. And doc?” Sheppard didn’t wait for an answer. “We’re awfully glad you’re still here!” His relief and joy giving those words a fitting ring to them.

“I know, son.” The exhausted physician sighed audibly. “So am I.”

“See you tomorrow if the warden lets us in.” Casting one last mischievous smile at Beckett, John and Rodney sneaked out.

xXxXx

Later at night, Dr Cole was sitting in Carson’s office, intent on getting some paper work done when something subconsciously entered her mind. For a few minutes she couldn’t quite make out what exactly it was that had distracted her from the file she was working on. But something surely caused her a distinct feeling of unease. She listened to the quiet infirmary. When all of a sudden realization hit her, she was at once on her feet… 


	4. Chapter 4

John awoke early that morning. During the night he had lain tossing and turning for hours, trying in vain to really comprehend what had happened. Yet finally exhaustion had won over restlessness and he had fallen into a dreamless slumber, at last allowing his body the much-needed sleep his troubled mind had denied him for too long. After their visit in the infirmary, Rodney and he had instinctively known where to go. There had never been a call for a meeting but nevertheless, many people had gathered in the conference room, patiently waiting for news. So the room had been literally packed when the two of them had arrived. Sheppard smiled as he recalled the utter relief in their faces. For the first time in months John felt at peace. At peace with himself. But most of all with fate in general. Today life was good!

At breakfast Rodney hardly said a word, even failing to complain about the ‘dishwater they call coffee’. For John it felt strange to have the ever-grating scientist gnawing at a single slice of bread and not say anything. Sure, Sheppard hadn’t been surprised by this behaviour when they all had thought Carson was dead, but he would have bet a fortune to find McKay his usual self again this morning. Something was obviously still worrying his friend, and the fact that Rodney refused to talk about it only increased his own disquiet. Knowing better than trying to prompt Rodney to tell what was up, they finished their breakfast at the ungodly hour of pre-sunrise in an atypical silence that weighed heavily on both of them.

Before starting their working day, they wanted to pay Beckett a short visit and share some good-natured banter with the witty doc. As the colonel and the physicist entered the quiet infirmary, the lights were low. The nurses of the nightshift were chatting with their colleagues of the dayshift over a cup of coffee, which the first needed to keep their tired eyes open and the latter to actually wake up. Mildly amused at the scene that was mirrored to a T in the doctors’ room, John and Rodney exchanged a glance. Their cunning plan to sneak in unnoticed at change of shift seemed to work fine; no one paid any attention to the trespassers. Unhindered they ventured further through the deserted infirmary to the intensive care unit, each step bolder than the previous one.

All of a sudden they heard someone walk up behind them. For one split second John considered hiding behind a curtain but it was already too late; they were caught!

“What do you gentlemen think you are doing here?” a stern voice asked.

With a look of pure innocence on his face, Rodney whirled around, hand darting to his chest. “Whoa! Dr Cole, how can you startle us like that? It’s your fault if I die of a heart attack one of these days.” The last bit was offered in the all too familiar annoyed tone of voice, vibrating with accusation.

The colonel marvelled at his friend’s ability to immediately switch into his usual inflammatory mode and even manage to keep his face straight, while he himself couldn’t muster anything beyond a sheepish smile with a good portion of his most seductive boyish charm thrown in for good measure. Unfortunately the doctor didn’t seem very impressed with either strategy. Her weary brown eyes displayed only the merest hint of amusement, and she was clearly in no mood to let them proceed.

With a no-nonsense look she ignored McKay’s comment and continued, “You can’t see Dr Beckett now. But I need to talk to you.”

xXxXx

Usually Dr Cole referred to her boss by first name, yet somehow in this situation it was much easier for her to call him Dr Beckett, thus creating some distance between her as a doctor and their critically wounded CMO as a patient. She needed this distance now, needed to disconnect her feelings in order to be able to do her job.

The two men were standing across the desk, fixing her sight and tracking down her every movement, deep furrows of worry engraved in their faces. Of course they had instantly known that her statement was not a good sign. To Sheppard’s growing anxiety, McKay had murmured something about ‘ill-boding’ and ‘being cut off when radioing in earlier’ all along the way to Carson’s office. This must have been the reason for Rodney’s peculiar behaviour. But why hadn’t he told him that he feared something was wrong? Why the hell hadn’t he told him? Instead John had walked in here with high hopes, which were about to be shattered once again.

The physician in front of them collected herself and took a deep breath, a simple habit both men had learned to dread. She let out a sigh, involuntarily reliving last night’s events as she began…

_Dashing out of the room, she crossed the short distance between Carson’s office and his infirmary bed. Beckett’s breaths came laboured and irregular but he managed a smile when she arrived._

_“Don’ ye worry, lass… ‘M fine.”_

_“Let me be the judge of that”, she muttered concerned. Countless times she had overheard him say just that to a patient. She had always guessed that in this matter Carson was no better than his favourite bed occupants he kept complaining about. But what he was playing down so casually was really serious, and he knew it. With practised routine Samantha Cole checked the readings on the monitors, noticing the alarmingly low oxygen saturation and the increased fever while inwardly scolding the night nurse for paying so little attention to a critical patient. They would have a serious talk about that later._

_“Betsy, where the hell are you?!” If ever she had tried to keep her voice level, she had failed._

_Said nurse rounded the corner and rushed towards the fuming doctor. Betsy looked apprehensive and guilt-ridden because she knew she had neglected to inform Dr Cole that she needed to go to the bathroom and it was a grave mistake to leave a critical patient without surveillance. But she had been gone for only a few minutes and Dr Beckett had been doing relatively okay. Why did something have to happen now of all moments?_

_When Betsy approached, Carson smiled sympathetically at her, fully aware that a decent dressing down was in store for her. After all, he himself had insisted she could go, being perfectly capable of looking after himself, especially since Samantha was in immediate vicinity._

_“No’ her faul’… Said ‘twas okay”, the CMO whispered between two gasps. Breathing was becoming more and more difficult for him but he valiantly stood his ground._

_“You”, and Dr Cole emphasized the first word dramatically, “are the patient this time, not the doctor!” Her stern expression and voice softened considerably before she carried on, “Seems like we’ll have to intubate soon, I’m afraid.” She laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder._

_Slowly Carson shook his head, “No’ yet, Sam... I ca’… can manage… a few more… minutes.” His ragged breaths clearly telling otherwise._

_“You know that’s not true. Your oxygen saturation has fallen abysmally”, the young physician answered quietly and stroke his cheek in a calming gesture. “I can understand that you are less than thrilled but unlike most patients we’re treating here, you know that it will actually help, not harm you.”_

_Although his heart rate was already accelerated, the beeping of the monitor beside him increased some more, mercilessly betraying his best efforts to appear brave. As a matter of fact, he was outright terrified at the thought of getting hooked up to the ventilator. Being a doctor, he rationally knew all too well that needing life support wasn’t such a big deal, but now on the receiving end, as a doctor and a patient, he felt fear overwhelm him. Still, it was not only that strong sensation of helplessness that freaked him out. Considering his burns, he had expected his deteriorating condition would lead to this, but had desperately hoped it wouldn’t come so soon. Already being dependent on assisted breathing at this time during the healing process, didn’t bode well at all for his chances of survival. Carson knew he could hardly postpone the intubation any much longer, but simply letting it happen and handing over his precious life to an unfeeling machine felt like giving up, submitting to his injuries. He didn’t want to surrender. Not now. Never. If it had been possible to keep breathing by pure willpower, he would have forced the air into his straining lungs. But with every passing minute he could sense his life slip through his fingers and his consciousness drift away._

_A gentle hand stroke through his sweaty hair while a soft voice next to him ordered the intubation kit and the appropriate medications. Desperately, Carson glanced up at Samantha’s compassionate face. He wondered whether he ever looked so much at a loss when it came to treating patients who were dear to him. Once his condition became life threatening, Dr Cole didn’t need Beckett’s consent to proceed, he knew that. And as much as he knew that she would do it without his approval, he appreciated her waiting for his agreement. She was a good doctor, he was proud to have her on the team._

_“Don’… wan’ te... give up…”, Beckett panted breathlessly. “No’ so… easily.”_

_“You’re not giving up, Carson.” Cole’s pitiful voice touched him deeply. Rationally the CMO understood she was right but it was so much harder to bring his emotions beyond the feeling of utter despair._

_“Do you allow us to intubate you?” Her soothing calmness and consoling touch comforted him._

_After a few seconds Carson nodded slowly. “B’t please… don’ make me… sleep t’ll… kingdom come…” A lonely tear escaped his eye, rolling down his reddened face._

_“I’ll let you wake up in the morning. Promise.”_

_A powerful wave of drowsiness engulfed Beckett as the Versed was administered into his IV port, washing his consciousness away within seconds. He tried to cling to awareness as long as he could. Eyes drooping he only just felt the pancuronium, the paralysing second injection take effect. From far away he more felt than heard a faint voice say, “Sleep well.”_

_He didn’t feel anymore his body go limp or his breathing stop altogether, nor did he feel tender hands tilting his head back and smoothly easing the tube down his trachea before the rhythmical thud of the ventilator commenced. There was only darkness and he let go…_


	5. Chapter 5

“It doesn’t end here, right?” Rodney’s voice sounded strangely detached.

“Pardon?” Dr Cole snapped out of her account.

“I said, it didn’t end here, right?” The physicist obviously didn’t care to elaborate, thinking she had just missed the words.

“I’m not quite sure what you’re aiming at, Dr McKay.”

With his head swirling from medical terms, even Sheppard didn’t have the slightest idea what Rodney wanted to know. So, receiving a quizzical look from both, the blond physician and his dark-haired friend, the scientist tried again.

“I mean, it’s not the end of the road. It’s still getting worse, isn’t it?” he uttered with slightly trembling voice. It was more of a statement rather than a question.

She looked to the floor, searching for answers, unsure what she should tell them. The silence in the room became almost tangible. After a moment she inhaled deeply, hesitating once again before she eventually spoke. “Yes, his condition will worsen further; probably a lot.” Her voice was low but steady. “The infection has taken a firm hold of his wounds, and for the moment the antibiotics we’re giving him don’t show any effect. I won’t lie to you, if his condition keeps deteriorating at this rate…”, she never finished the sentence, she didn’t have to.

Wide-eyed and unbelieving Rodney and John stared at the doctor in front of them. What she told so calmly, seemingly unfeeling, turned their world upside-down. ‘Yes’, John recalled, ‘she had said Carson was not out of the woods yet’, but he had never realized just what exactly this meant. All of them had beaten the odds so many times; _Carson – for goodness sake – had even returned from the dead!_ John had never once even considered the possibility that the gentle Scotsman could still actually die. He had expected Beckett to get a little worse – _yes_ –, taking his time to fight off the fever – _yes_ –, bitching and moaning about the pain and the possible scars – _though that was really Rodney’s department_ –, all the while contentedly chatting with his friends, just like the night before…

Now, the seriousness of the situation caught up with him. He felt himself trapped in a cruel universe keen on mercilessly taking away again what had looked like a generous gift at first glance, thus making the loss even more unbearable.

The physicist beside him struggled for words, subconsciously grabbing for the back-rest of the nearest chair to support his wobbly legs. Finding the assistance still not quite sufficient to forestall the danger of his knees giving way under him, he finally succeeded in planting himself into it. John had always believed Rodney’s panic attacks were unnerving but his friend was now clearly beyond panic, and that terrified Sheppard even more.

“You came here to see Dr Beckett”, Cole broke the uncomfortable silence. “And I think that’s a very good idea. Having his friends around will certainly lift his spirit and motivate him to mobilize every last resource of strength. As long as he is up to it, you, Dr Weir, Ronon and Teyla are free to visit him. Two conditions though: no more than two visitors at once, after all he needs rest to gather his strength; and you immediately get out of the way in case of an emergency.” She paused briefly. “He will wake up in an hour or two. If everything’s alright, I’ll call you over the radio, then you can see him.”

xXxXx

John was at a loss what to do. So early in the morning most people were still asleep or at the most getting up by now. Strolling to the Gateroom, he even found Elizabeth’s office deserted. Well, so much for the plan to debrief Weir in the meantime. He considered going to the gym and see whether he could convince Ronon to spar with him. But the Satedan was probably not up yet, either.

‘What to do? What to do?’

The colonel turned on his heel, undecided where to go next. Silently he envied Rodney for his lab work. He was pretty sure McKay had no problems distracting himself for the time being. The man was always busy, busier than seemed healthy; but that was another matter. Involuntarily Sheppard remembered his neglected paperwork.

‘Nah, I’m not _that_ desperate…!’ He dismissed the idea.

Suddenly something sprang to his mind. He turned around and headed off.

xXxXx

Rodney had walked off to his lab where Zelenka was already at work. Judging from his tired face, Radek too hadn’t had much sleep if any at all. Just like McKay, the Czech was famous for his night shifts, and given the circumstances of the past few days, in which their feelings had gone through the proverbial roller coaster ride, their insomnia was hardly surprising.

“Morning, Rodney.” Zelenka tried to stifle a compromising yawn.

‘Definitely the whole-night shift’, McKay concluded. “Ah Radek, what are you _still_ doing here? Have you even _tried_ to take a nap before messing up my whole research of over a week?”

The snappy remark remained unanswered as Zelenka unsuccessfully took another attempt at suppressing a yawn.

“Come on, Radek. Take your stubborn butt and remove your head from my sight to get some shut-eye before you accidentally blow up the whole city! If I find you anywhere near the lab within the next four hours, I’ll have my good buddy Ronon take care of your sleeplessness…” The mock threat caused both scientists a smile.

At first Radek seemed unwilling to leave but finally he relented. “Okay. And when you go see Carson, give him my best.”

“Will do. Now go already.” With that Rodney turned around, hiding his worry, and tried to busy himself with something while waiting for the anticipated call.”

xXxXx

Dr Cole’s estimation had been quite accurate. Roughly one hour after the astrophysicist and the colonel had left the infirmary, Carson became restless in his sleep. Although her shift had officially ended about half an hour ago, she now pulled a chair closer to his bed. Of course Dr Jollet could have handled it, but she had been there when her boss had been put to sleep; now she wanted to be there when he regained consciousness. After all, her migraine had been at least part of the reason he had ended up in his own infirmary with severe burns. And already being off duty proved an immense advantage, for she didn’t have to split her attention between several patients but was able to concentrate on just one person. One very special person.

On the night stand beside the bed various vials of medication and syringes were assembled. Dr Beckett’s awakening would not be a pleasant one. She had never experienced it herself but she understood that coming round when intubated was less than comfortable, even terrifying at times. That was one of the main reasons why patients on a ventilator usually remained sedated. Yet, apart from the discomfort, there was nothing against letting such a patient come to. Still, because of the burns in his respiratory tract, the breathing tube would cause considerable pain. So, should he start to writhe or struggle, Dr Cole would not hesitate to put him back to sleep, even against his explicit wish.

As Samantha watched the dark-haired man in front of her slowly wake up and become more and more aware of his surroundings, she slipped from her chair and reached at the ventilator controls, setting it to Assist Control. There was no way of knowing whether her superior was still able to initiate breaths of his own; she doubted it, but she couldn’t be entirely sure, either. And having to endure Control Ventilation while conscious if his spontaneous breathing hadn’t stopped altogether, was simply cruel. Soothingly she began to talk to Carson in order to keep him calm. She took the damp cloth from his forehead, rinsed it in the basin on the night stand and gently washed the sweat from Beckett’s feverish face, then, rinsing it once more, she placed it back on his brow. Subconsciously savouring the cool sensation, which brought momentary relief from the heat, the CMO slightly turned his head in Cole’s direction.

“Shhh, try to lie still. I know you are very uncomfortable and hot but try to move as little as possible.”

His awareness was still too far away to catch the meaning of the words but nevertheless, the calming tone of voice had the desired effect and Beckett settled down again. Knowing from experience that it was hard work for a patient to surface from a medically induced sleep, the young physician moved her chair even closer to the head of the bed and tenderly stroked his cheek, all the while quietly talking to her boss, providing an anchor to the real world to which he could cling.

The thick, impenetrable mist within Carson’s head dissipated but very slowly. At first only vague sensations and smells leaked through into his brain, then he heard someone whisper from a great distance but was unable to grasp what was said. Gradually the voice came closer and some of the words reached down to him, the scraps didn’t make sense though. He tried to concentrate on the monotone, gentle voice. He was sure he knew the speaker but couldn’t quite figure it out; the fog made it unbelievably difficult to focus. The familiar voice was like a star his mind could steer by while he fought to finally reach the surface. Bit by bit, he succeeded in stringing the words together. Yet, with the blessing of understanding, the dull ache throughout his body became more and more dominant. Beckett tried to turn away from the throbbing pain but a soft hand steadied him instantly.

“Shh, Carson. Everything’s alright. Just relax. I know you’re in pain. I’ll give you something in a moment.”

‘Sam. The familiar voice, which had kept talking and talking, belonged to Sam.’ In spite of her soothing voice, his body tensed when her stroking hand deserted his cheek. The cool cloth was picked up from his brow. He heard the splashing of water, then the coolness returned to his head as did her hand. Trying to open his eyes, his eyelids fluttered.

“Easy, Carson, easy. Try to keep still and relax. You are on the ventilator. We had to intubate you last night. Do you remember?”

As the mist slowly cleared, his memory returned. The pain was now hardly bearable, especially that in his sore throat, but knowing there would be no escape, he resisted the urge to shift restlessly. With all his might he forced his eyes open, blinking the world into focus.

“Good morning, Dr Beckett.” Cole’s face beamed down at him.

Despite his aching body, the corners of his lips twitched. Samantha couldn’t suppress a hearty laughter, followed by an affectionate pat on his shoulder.

“Always the gentleman, always the charm.” Dr Cole’s smile faded after a few moments, and her expression grew serious again.

“Since you can’t talk with the breathing tube, we now set the rules.” She paused for a second to study his dilated blue eyes, making sure Beckett was still with her. “You blink once for ‘yes’ and twice for ‘no’. Understood?”

He blinked once, comprehension clear in his face.

“Good. Then, how is the pain? Bad?”

Leaving aside their recent agreement, Carson rolled his eyes. Undoubtedly, she wouldn’t have any trouble deciphering what he meant. Due to the very potent drugs though, the sudden movement didn’t agree with his equilibrium at all and he was rewarded with a wave of nausea.

“I see. Can you manage, or do you want me to sedate you again?” Samantha asked tenderly although she was sure she knew the answer already.

The Scot’s eyes went wide for an instant, then hastily blinked twice.

“Thought so. But you know, I had to ask anyway.” She smiled apologetically at him.

Completely alert by now, he held her glance when she continued. “Okay, before I give you something to take off the edge, I want you to try something. The ventilator is set to AC mode, and I need to know whether you are still capable of spontaneous breathing. Now I want you to try and initiate a breath on your own. Can you do that for me, Carson?”

Dr Cole observed her boss carefully as he closed his eyes in concentration, clenching his fists from the effort of trying to comply with her request. But to no avail. No matter how hard he strove, his lungs remained unresponsive. Eventually a consoling hand settled on his shoulder, and when he opened his eyes in defeat, they were met with a sympathetic smile.

“Never mind. I never expected you to be able to breathe on your own. I just needed to be sure.” With that she switched the respirator again to Control Ventilation and busied herself with one of the vials and a syringe from the night stand. From the corner of his eyes, Beckett stared curiously at her.

“Just some Fentanyl”, Samantha explained while she injected the drug into his IV port. “Give it a moment to take effect. You should feel better soon.”

Lazily she sat back into the vacant chair. After a few seconds she witnessed her patient’s features beginning to loosen up, his tension finally easing. She waited another two minutes and contentedly noticed that his muscles had relaxed significantly.

“Better? Manageable?”

Carson blinked.

“Fine. One last question before I beat it and call it a night… day… whatever.” She leaned in and cast an inquiring glance at the CMO. “You up for some visitors? You know, I already had to literally trip one certain colonel and one certain astrophysicist on the virtual doorstep of the ICU before the first light of the morning.” The blond physician shook her head in fake despair.

Face lighting up and eyes expectantly smiling with joy, her dark-haired boss blinked again.

“Okay, stay tuned. I’ll go get the others.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I admit there was one tiny little flaw in the continuity within this chapter but I liked that part so much that I kept it anyway.


	6. Chapter 6

“It is good to see you, Carson.” With slow and deliberate movements Teyla approached the bed. She reached out and put one tender hand on Beckett’s right forearm. The doctor opened his heavy lids with obvious effort, but as soon as their eyes locked, Carson’s bright blue eyes beamed with affection and he tried a smile. It must have been an odd grimace, for Teyla’s brow furrowed for a second. She chuckled briefly as understanding dawned on her before the strain on her sutures made her wince. With her free hand she picked up the damp cloth, rinsed it and carefully put it back on the Scot’s fevered forehead. She let her aching body slide down onto the grey visitor’s chair, the movement clearly causing her pain, but her smile was genuine.

“I am happy to finally get the opportunity to thank you for saving my life”, Teyla said with her usual calm voice, every inch of her body displaying an unrivalled strength the CMO had always admired in her. She was a true leader, no less than Elizabeth Weir. Her hand still resting on Carson’s arm, she leaned back and closed her eyes. They shared an intent moment in silence. No words were needed between them, her mere presence and touch giving Beckett strength to keep fighting.

xXxXx

“I can’t believe she beat us to it!” Rodney’s exasperated voice shattered the quiet of the infirmary.

John’s attempt to drag his friend in the direction of the waiting area was met with significant resistance.

“Oh, come on, that was just plainly unfair! Teyla had an illegal advantage.”

“Rodney…” the colonel began.

Unimpressed McKay continued his rant, “How could she do that? _We_ should be the first visitors. We were _first_ , weren’t we? Next time I’ll occupy the bed right next to…”

Rooodneeeey”, Sheppard was beginning to lose his patience. “We _have_ been the first, remember?!”

“But…”

“No buts! Teyla hasn’t seen Carson at all, so don’t grudge her these few minutes. She deserves it. Besides, I’m sure she won’t take too long. After the surgery she’s still weak and won’t be allowed to stay out of bed for more than a while anyway.”

As John let himself sink onto one of the chairs, the infirmary doors slid open to reveal Elizabeth Weir. Her expression was unreadable, even for Sheppard. It was somewhere between fatigue, relief and worry, which she masterfully tried to conceal. She was the leader of the Atlantis expedition, everyone looked up at her, relied on her. Trained by countless nerve-racking negotiations, she was supposed to retain her objectiveness and calm demeanour even in the most difficult situations, be an example. How close she had come to a break-down in these past few days, when she wanted nothing more than to hide away in her quarters and shut out reality, she would never admit.

“Good morning. John, Rodney”, she greeted and came closer. “How is he? Dr Cole just radioed to tell me we could see Carson now.”

“Not so good from what I understand”, John replied simply. “Teyla’s with him.”

“Good.” She nodded in their direction and took off to the intensive care area.

Both men stared after her in utter disbelief. McKay was so flabbergasted that his mouth opened as if to say something but he remained silent and his lips closed again. Instead his eyes narrowed and he started after Elizabeth. Seeing Rodney’s reaction, John darted up in one smooth movement and grabbed the scientist’s shoulder to stop him.

“RODNEY”, Sheppard hissed, his voice barely audible. McKay turned to face the dark-haired man. Whether Elizabeth had heard it as well, John couldn’t tell. With an unnerved glare even Rodney knew better than to challenge, the colonel commanded his friend to take a seat. Face set and arms firmly crossed in front of his chest in a stubborn stance, the astrophysicist sat down ceremoniously, every fibre of his body vibrating with discontent.

xXxXx

Only five minutes later Elizabeth reappeared from the ICU with Teyla in tow. The young Athosian looked exhausted and pale. Weir offered her a shoulder to lean on but she declined as they walked side by side to Teyla’s bed, where she lowered herself into a half sitting position. The two women began to talk softly with each other.

This was the moment Rodney had waited for. Without casting so much as a side glance at Sheppard, he rose from his seat and marched towards the secluded area. Remembering Dr Cole’s earlier words, his pace slowed down with each step nearer towards his injured friend. What would he find behind the curtain? Would Carson be lucid at all? Could he bear the sight of his closest friend on the ventilator? Or would he fail Beckett again? Hands slightly trembling, McKay hesitated, feeling more like running away than going on. An understanding hand settled on his shoulder. He startled and realized it was Sheppard’s. In the colonel’s eyes he could see the same fears that had made him stop. John cast Rodney an encouraging smile. Straightening, the physicist mustered all his strength to feign cheerfulness and entered.

All the cables, tubes and wires looked at least as scary as they had the day before. It was a frightening sight but not nearly as terrifying to behold as seeing Carson lying almost flat on his back, hooked up to a ventilator with a tube sticking out of his mouth. McKay paled visibly and his legs threatened to give way under him as he sluggishly staggered on. Rodney threw a glance at Sheppard, who now stood right next to the head of the bed. ‘If John felt similarly queasy, he does one hell of a job hiding it!’ the scientist reflected.

“Hey buddy, how you’re doing?” Sheppard chimed, uneasiness obvious in his voice.

‘Wow, that was convincing’, McKay thought to himself. Somehow the knowledge of John being equally uncomfortable made him feel better. Boldly he stepped closer and pushed away the colonel, who busied himself with the cloth and the water basin on the night stand anyway. Rodney looked at his friend. The Scot’s eyes were glassy from the fever and his reddened face made them appear bluer than ever, but his face expressed a joy that the astrophysicist hadn’t believed possible. ‘How does he always do this?’ he wondered, gaping down in disbelief. ‘Even if Beckett looked as though he’d fall apart any second, he still managed to produce a heartfelt smile out of nowhere.’

“Hey Carson.” Even Rodney was surprised at the softness of his words. He lightly patted the CMO’s shoulder, then let Sheppard wash the sweat from Beckett’s face before he placed the freshly rinsed cloth on his brow again.

“Better, isn’t it?” John asked, not expecting an answer. “Last night, our super-genius here, had a brilliant idea to storm the infirmary, sort of. But I think it’s best to let the evil plot-weaver tell himself…”, he teased, starting a conversation to push the awkward silence away.

“Yes, yes”, Rodney jumped at the invitation, never missing an opportunity to boast. Carson and John exchanged knowing glances. This was so typical. While Rodney started the account on his unparalleled brilliance and cunning plan to sneak into the intensive care unit and the two men sat back on the empty seats next to the bed, the doctor allowed his eyes to drift shut, enjoying every word the scientist uttered. In spite of his condition or the constant thud of the ventilator, this gave the scene a pleasant pretence of normality.

Twenty minutes later – Rodney hadn’t even reached the point where the colonel and he were actually venturing into the infirmary – Dr Jollet appeared inside the secluded area. He was a bulky man in his mid-thirties with a very stern face. Having arrived only after the expedition had reclaimed their city from the Asurans, he was fairly new on Atlantis.

“Colonel, Doctor”, he greeted, his deep voice rumbling. “Please excuse us for a few minutes.”

Carson’s eyes snapped open instantly and Rodney turned towards the man standing next to the curtain. He looked less than pleased to be rudely interrupted in his lengthy tale.

“Ah, Dr… Dr...”, Rodney looked at the doctor’s nameplate. “Dr Jollet, eager on…”

“It’s pronounced ‘shoyé’, Dr McKay, ‘shoyé’”, the physician briskly cut him short. “I’m French. Not every name that looks familiar can be mistreated to sound remotely like English.”

Sheppard rolled his eyes, as annoying as his attitude was often enough, this time however, he felt sympathy for McKay for a change.

“Okay, Dr ‘not-so-Jolly’, whatever”, the scientist retorted, “If you’re that sensitive about your name, maybe you should have used the phonetic alphabet on your nameplate instead.”

“Maybe it’s just your arrogant American attitude to believe every name in the world is pronounced in your mother tongue.” The doctor’s voice was vibrating with despise.

Rodney got up, ready to give the big-headed Frenchman the tongue-lashing of his life, but John, who had remained quiet so far, grabbed his friend’s arm and manoeuvred him around the now-vacant chairs and out through the curtain.

“We’re just outside if you need us”, the colonel called back.

All the while Carson had followed the argument with great interest and a good deal of amusement. He would have loved to witness the verbal sparring between Jollet and McKay to unfold, though he doubted the physician would have stood the slightest chance against a Rodney McKay in fit state.

“Dr Beckett”, Jollet asked for the Scot’s attention. “I need to change the dressings, and I’m afraid it’s also time for the suction tube.”

The dark-haired man shifted a little in his bed at the prospect of these unpleasant procedures and closed his eyes. He wanted nothing more than to get it over with and have his friends return as soon as possible.


	7. Chapter 7

“What’s this butcher doing with him in there?” Rodney inquired impatiently. “I mean he’s prodding Carson for over half an hour now.”

John didn’t even bother to reply anymore. They hadn’t been expelled from Beckett’s bedside for more than two minutes before the scientist had begun his constant complaints about how much longer it would take.

“Does the guy need another medical degree? He didn’t even let me finish my story; how rude is that?!” he ranted on.

“Rodney, your story was teeth-gritting and magnificently told but I think Carson can deal with the suspense…”, Sheppard remarked dryly.

“Ha ha, very funny, Colonel”, McKay quipped. “But he certainly must come out of there _some_ time.”

“I’m sure he will. Any minute now.”

The words had hardly left Sheppard’s mouth when the curtain was drawn back enough to let the chubby doctor through.

“Fine, gentlemen, please yourselves. But Dr Beckett has just fallen asleep, so let him rest for a while.” Dr Jollet’s voice seemed to have softened a bit. Nothing was left of the offensive manner he had sported before.

“Is everything alright with him?” John was worried.

“For the moment.” With heavy steps he walked on without casting another glance at the two men.

“Talkative fellow”, the physicist offered.

“Yeah.” Sheppard replied and turned on his heels, boots squealing on the ground, then headed towards the curtain.

xXxXx

Carson slept for hours but John and Rodney never left his side. When Ronon showed up to take his turn at the bedside, McKay and Sheppard reluctantly rose to fetch some food. Only then did the two of them realize they hadn’t had anything since their early breakfast.

“I’ll keep an eye on him”, the Satedan whispered as not to disturb the sleeping man.

“We’ll be back soon.” With his fist Sheppard gave Ronon a light pat on the shoulder.

Knowing Ronon kept guard and would immediately inform them if anything should happen, John and Rodney took their time having an extensive dinner in the mess hall. After all, it would be a long night. Before they returned to Beckett, McKay checked in on Radek while Sheppard went to see Elizabeth.

Upon their arrival at the infirmary about an hour later, Teyla had joined Ronon at Carson’s side, and they had a lively conversation. Well, Teyla did most of the talking, and Ronon seemed to add a few things every once in a while. When the young woman spotted the two men, she got up from her seat but Sheppard gestured she needn’t hurry. McKay didn’t look all too happy about this unnecessary delay but strolled after his friend to the waiting area.

A couple of minutes later the Satedan approached them, his features softer than usual. “Beckett woke up several minutes before you came back”, he explained. “The nurse says everything’s okay but he doesn’t look good.”

John was surprised at Ronon’s comment. He knew the Satedan had a soft spot for the gentle doctor with the weird accent ever since Beckett had relieved him from the Wraith tracking device, but he had never shown his concern for any of them so openly. The colonel nodded and made his way over to where their friend waited for them.

As Rodney and he entered, Carson stared expectantly in their direction. Although he had slept for hours, the physician looked worn out and exhausted.

“It’s okay, doc”, Sheppard soothed, “just get some shut-eye. When you wake up and feel better, we’ll be right here.”

The fact that their friend didn’t even evoke the impression of _trying_ to resist before he let his eyes droop, was most unsettling. His unfinished tale long-forgotten, Rodney picked up the cloth with a sigh, put it in the water basin and laid it back on Carson’s forehead, then sat down on the chair beside John.

Eventually, with the beginning of the nightshift, the lights were dimmed and a peaceful quiet claimed the corridors of the infirmary. When the curtain was partially drawn back, Rodney and John broke out of their absentminded state. Dr Gitano gave them his best grandfatherly smile. It was heart-warming to see that his superior had such good friends. He deserved it; and he needed them now of all times. The Columbian doctor checked on the monitors, injected something into the IV port, scribbled a few notes into Beckett’s chart, then cast the two men an intent glare and bade them follow him. McKay’s heart sank and he could sense the colonel’s nervousness as they went after the doctor.

“I am a bit worried”, the physician began. “Dr Beckett’s fever is very high still, even increasing slight, alsough we have administered somesing to let his temperature sink. It seem to have only little effect. It is not life-sreatening so far but we must keep a eye on sis.”

The elderly Columbian left without another word, oblivious of the two men’s baffled faces.

xXxXx

Rodney woke with a start as something hit the back of his head. He realized he had fallen asleep, his forehead resting on his crossed arms on the edge of Carson’s bed. Irritated, he glared over at Sheppard, not knowing why the colonel had slapped him. His confusion grew further when he perceived John softly snoring on the seat beside him. The colonel’s feet, stripped of the boots, were placed casually on the night stand. McKay shook his head in disbelief at the sight when another unexpected punch met his head. He turned, fuming. Seeing who had smacked him, his angry grimace fell at once and all blood left his face. Carson’s features were contorted with pain and terror while his arms were lashing out at invisible enemies.

“Sheppard!” McKay more squeaked than shouted. He was on the verge of panic.

The colonel jumped to his feet, fully alert. It took him less than two seconds to grasp the seriousness of the situation.

“I’ll get the doctor! Try to calm him down”, John yelled on his way out.

Rodney was at a total loss what to do. How was he supposed to calm Beckett down? Suddenly Carson grabbed at the breathing tube. Fortunately it had been taped firmly to the Scot’s face, therefore his desperate attempt at ridding himself of the tube remained unsuccessful. The physicist reacted without hesitation. Disregarding his friend’s wounds, he seized Beckett’s arms and held them down in a steady clasp. He felt the heat of fever radiating even through the bandages. Carson was burning up. Taken aback by the surprising restraints he could not escape, Beckett began thrashing fiercely. McKay knew he should be talking to pacify Carson, but he was unable to produce a sound around the lump in his throat.

It took only seconds for Sheppard to arrive with Dr Cole and three nurses; still, to Rodney it seemed like an eternity. Quickly assessing the monitors, Dr Cole cursed while the nurses immediately took over. McKay stepped back, making room for the medical personnel. Yet, neither the scientist nor the colonel could bring himself to leaving the curtained area as they watched helplessly how the nurses whispered soothingly while holding their friend’s flailing arms still, giving the young physician the opportunity to administer several syringes with drugs. The grotesque fight continued for another half a minute, then Carson’s movements gradually slowed down and at last ceased altogether. He blinked a few times and his eyes lost its focus but they stayed open.

“He… he tried to pull… pull out the… the… tube”, Rodney stammered still shaken from the scene he had witnessed. “I had to hold him down…”

“Shit”, Cole muttered under her breath. She adjusted her stethoscope and carefully listened to the sound of her patient’s lungs. “Everything seems to be fine but get me the mobile x-ray, just to be sure”, she said to no one in particular. Becoming aware of the fact that Rodney and John were still there, she faced the two men, her expression stern and discouraging.

“Please radio the others. I need to talk to all of you.”

As Dr Cole left, she was surprised to find Elizabeth, Teyla and Ronon standing right behind the curtain, deepest concern engraved in their features.

“Oh”, she exclaimed, momentarily stunned.

“I heard Dr McKay shout the Colonel’s name”, Teyla said apologetically. “I informed Dr Weir and Ronon that something was wrong. I hope that is alright with you, Dr Cole.”

“Since you’re already here, we can talk right away.”

The small group assembled around the physician just outside the curtain, afraid of what they might hear. When the doctor hesitated and looked down to the polished infirmary floor, they realized it was serious, more serious than they wanted to know.

“What happened in there a minute ago?” Sheppard started.

“Dr Beckett’s fever has climbed to 105.2 degrees. He was hallucinating. Obviously he was fighting against something and in the process tried to pull the ventilator tube out of his throat. I gave him some tranquilizers and painkillers to calm him down.” She fell silent for a moment and looked at the floor again, unable to hold anyone’s questioning gaze.

When she lifted her brown eyes, they were filled with regret. “This incident was rather harmless and as far as I can see there has been no damage, but I think you will understand that something like this must not happen again.” The implications of this statement slowly sank in.

“Dr Beckett’s condition has worsened dramatically. He is burning up with fever and his temperature is not going down, not even with medication. Some of his burns are acutely infected, and the sepsis won’t react to the usual cocktail of antibiotics. Due to his state, Dr Beckett is asleep most of the time, and even when he’s awake, he is hallucinating and hardly lucid.” Teyla and Elizabeth had paled, Rodney’s colour matched that of the bed sheets, only Ronon and Sheppard stood their ground.

Dr Cole swallowed before she softly continued. “Dr Beckett needs rest above all else now. As soon as the x-ray comes back clear… I will put him into a medically induced coma. Maybe he’ll get better then.” The last sentence was almost choked as Samantha fought with her own emotions.

In his bed, Carson glared at the ceiling without focus. He felt miserable, incredibly hot and the weight of a ton of bricks seemed to rest on his body, making it almost impossible for him to move. Visions were rushing through his mind and he heard voices, familiar voices. With enormous effort he tried to concentrate, to focus on what was said. The mist in his mind from the recent dose of pain medication made it extremely difficult for him to string the words together to meaningful units. While he still thought about the sense of the words, a machine came into his field of vision but left before he even realized his body had been slightly moved. Then he comprehended a certain phrase: ‘medically induced coma’. It sounded like a death sentence; and maybe it was…

Beckett felt a tug on his right arm when something was injected into his IV. “He will fall asleep in a minute”, a voice explained. It was much closer now, easier to understand. “You can stay here, all of you. I don’t think I could make you leave anyway.”

‘One minute. One minute… for maybe the rest of his life. Would he ever wake up again? Would he make out the end at all? Would it make a difference? Or would it be the same as the relentless sleep, which already crept into his awareness?’ He was defeated and terribly afraid, but worst of all, he didn’t have any answers. With one last exertion, Carson forced his glassy, dilated eyes to focus on the world. They were all here, his closest friends, standing around his bed. At least he was not alone. Not alone like that night in the tent with Michael on some godforsaken planet. No, they were all here. He felt their reassuring hands giving him strength and a tiny anchor to reality to which he could cling. Before the pull at his consciousness became overwhelming and his vision blurred, he looked at each of them one last time, taking in their friendship and despair. Last of all, his eyes rested on Rodney, but after a second McKay was no longer able to hold his friend’s gaze, the physicist looked away. When Rodney had composed himself and looked up once more, Beckett’s bright blue eyes were already closed. The emotion almost tangible, the Scot could feel the wave of regret surging through Rodney, regret for failing his friend; again…

But Carson could no longer defy the tide that engulfed him mercilessly. The sounds and feelings became distant, unreal, then faded away. And his mind was lost in a sea of never-ending darkness…


	8. Chapter 8

Sheppard’s left hand was clenched to a tight fist, nails digging deep into his palm as he watched Carson drift slowly into oblivion. This was wrong, so wrong. He felt helpless beyond belief. Usually _he_ was the one who ended up wounded in the infirmary, with Beckett working miracles on him, if necessary moving heaven and hell. The man was a kick-ass physician, if anyone could send the Grim Reaper packing, it was him! _Trust_ wasn’t nearly a strong enough word to describe what he felt when in Carson’s care. And now they had to simply witness him fade away and could do nothing, nothing but wait. Why was having friends ever so painful?

Face set, John took a step back and flopped onto the chair he had occupied before. From the corner of an eye he could see Rodney’s guilt-laden expression. Hesitantly he raised a hand to lay on the physicist’s shoulder as he too took a seat. “He’ll be okay. You’ll see.” John’s tone suggested conviction his mind lacked.

“I looked away.” McKay sounded inconsolable. “I looked away…”, his words receded to a whisper.

At the sound of shuffling feet and fabric being pulled back, Sheppard looked up, for the first time realizing that Dr Cole had still been there. “I’ll get more chairs”, she said as she sneaked out. A few minutes later, the curtain was drawn back with a swift move. However, it was not Dr Cole but two nurses bringing chairs. Without a word they set them down and exited, leaving the curtain partially open, thus creating more space now that there were five worried persons waiting.

While Ronon and Teyla sat down, Elizabeth looked indecisive, unsure what to do. With small, hesitant steps she moved towards the still form in the bed before her. It took a few seconds before she reached out for the cloth and rinsed it. For the fraction of a second her shoulders slumped and it seemed as if she might lose her composure. But when she placed the cold cloth on Carson’s forehead again, her face and features displayed no weakness. She tenderly stroked his cheek, then turned and went away.

Knowing he was stripped of all other options but wait and be at Beckett’s side, John leaned back heavily and closed his eyes, lulled by the murmured self-berating of McKay’s voice. The night sitting by his injured friend had been long, and the new day had just dawned. So for an endless moment, he silently listened to the monotonous beeping of the various monitors and the rhythmical _whoosh-thunk_ of the respirator. Finally, his own breathing levelled out and he gently slid back into the realm of restless dreams.

Although he hadn’t even become aware of leaving consciousness behind at all, when he reluctantly opened his eyes again after what seemed less than ten minutes of merciful respite, the scenery had changed significantly. A quick check on his watch told him it was already way past noon. Rodney had fallen asleep on the chair beside him, while Ronon had obviously found the vacant bed next to Beckett’s. Sheppard couldn’t suppress a grin; the soundly slumbering warrior was quite a sight. He noticed Elizabeth hadn’t returned as of yet, and Teyla was gone as well, but he suspected he would find the Athosian in her own bed.

Careful not to make a sound, he gingerly got up and stretched his aching limbs. Just seconds ago the pilot had smiled at the Satedan for his choice of the bed, now he silently envied him. Most likely Ronon would not have to worry about stiff and numb extremities when he woke up. Judging by the very uncomfortably-looking posture of the scientist, at least McKay would share his fate. An evil grin crossed his face. Without noise he walked over to Carson’s head and for a while did nothing but look at his motionless friend. For all the fear and despair John had seen in the man’s eyes before he had been put to sleep, now his face was completely relaxed and void of all worries. There was no pain, only peace. Sheppard gently took the cloth from Beckett’s forehead, quietly washed his fevered face and let it once more sink into the basin of water. Then he placed it back on the doc’s brow.

Sighing deeply, John considered dropping on his seat again before his grumbling stomach reminded him of its emptiness. ‘Alright, maybe I can just grab some food and coffee at the mess. There’s nothing here at the moment I could do anyway.’ He was already on his way sneaking out of the curtained area when it hit him. ‘Boots… right… I should probably put on the boots.’ Being aware of the colonel’s concern for his friend, no one would have said anything, but he still preferred holding up a minimum resemblance of dignity, especially as the CO of Atlantis.

On his way out, he briefly stopped by at Beckett’s office, where Dr Cole was concentrating on some paperwork.

“Is anything wrong?” she started, alarmed.

“No, everything seems to be fine. I just wanted to go to the mess and wondered if I could bring you something as well”, Sheppard asked standing in the doorframe.

She smiled. “I’m fine. Thanks, Colonel.”

“Welcome”, he mumbled tapping his fist on the door as he left.

xXxXx

Once Sheppard had smelled the delicious aroma of spicy goulash with rice, the temptation of getting a warm meal into his starving stomach was too much to defy. Instead of merely chewing on a turkey sandwich, he sat down at one of the tables with a dish of goulash, a glass of juice and a tasty donut. Despite his hunger and the aroma, he paid little attention to the meal. While he ate in silence, his mind strayed back to the infirmary. He only noticed that he had already emptied his tray when his fork repeatedly clicked on the plate without hitting anything. He quickly disposed of the tray, then fetched another one and began piling different sandwiches, side dishes and desserts on it; plus two cups of blue Jell-O for McKay. John had never understood Rodney’s fascination for wobbly, coloured food with no nutritional value whatsoever, but since the astrophysicist craved this dessert, he hoped it would lighten his mood a bit.

As he passed the doors of the mess hall, juggling his tray laden with food and two vacuum flasks of coffee, he nearly bumped into Elizabeth, who only just managed to get out of the way to avoid a collision.

“Whoa, Elizabeth.”

“John.”

For a moment an awkward silence spread between the two, then Weir continued, “Quite an amazing pile you got yourself.”

“Um, yeah”, was the only reply.

“I see you’re headed to the infirmary again”, Elizabeth began. “I… ehm… I had a lot of work. I’ll come and see after Carson later.” She fiddled nervously with her hands.

“Sure. See ya”, Sheppard muttered picking up his stride, not waiting for an answer.

Arriving at his destination roughly half an hour after he had left, he found McKay and Ronon at Teyla’s side next to her bed. A painful knot formed inside his stomach and he swallowed hard.

“What happened? Is something wrong?” The dread was clearly audible in his voice.

Rodney looked confused and shot a glance at the curtain, right index finger and left thumb pointing in the direction. “Oh, you mean…”

“No. Nothing is wrong, Colonel”, Teyla soothed with a calming gesture. “Doctor Beckett is still fine. There is just a… visitor.”

The way Teyla pronounced the last word did nothing to ease Sheppard’s disquiet. Wordlessly he put the tray down on Teyla’s night stand and cautiously approached the secluded section. From inside he heard a muffled voice, but he could not quite make out who it was, nor could he understand the words. The sight that greeted him upon lurking round the half-drawn curtain left him speechless. There was Colonel Caldwell sitting on one of the chairs, slightly hunched over, elbows resting on his knees. The face of the usually tough-as-nails commander of the Daedalus displayed a softness John had not believed possible in the hard features of the experienced soldier.

Almost instantly Caldwell became aware of Sheppard’s presence and straightened immediately, his tone becoming both louder and more resolute. “Anyway… I hope you will get better soon, Doctor.” With a firm pat on Beckett’s shoulder he rose and passed the pilot with a nod, added by a short, “Colonel Sheppard.”

Astounded and unable to say anything, John gazed after the Colonel, who left the infirmary without a sideways glance.


	9. Chapter 9

When John returned his attention to his team, he couldn’t help a broad grin as he saw his friends falling on the tray like famished birds of prey on their victim; especially Ronon eyed every hand moving towards the food suspiciously, ready to jump into action should anyone dare to pick an item he claimed for his own. Approaching Beckett’s side, Sheppard shook his head.

“You know, doc”, he said cheerfully, “they are really quite a bunch. Honestly, sometimes I really have to fight the urge to knock their heads together! And you’re no exception!”

While rewetting the cloth on the physician’s brow, he grew serious again. “Listen… Carson… I think I’ve never told you before… and I probably wouldn’t if you could understand me right now”, John added hastily. “Besides, Rodney would never let me hear the end of it…” He paused briefly, looking to the shining floor. ‘Man, this was worse than pulling teeth!’

“Carson… what I want to say…”, he took another pause, then perceived soft steps coming closer and the curtain parted.

“Sorry to interrupt, Colonel, but will you give us a moment?” Dr Cole’s voice broke the silence. Sensing she couldn’t have chosen a worse time to enter, she apologised, “Sorry, I didn’t know… I’ll come back in a few minutes.”

“No. No, it’s okay. Really.” John immediately put on a casual expression and faced Beckett again. “Seems like you’re pretty popular lately if even Caldwell pays you a visit and now a beautiful blonde wants to share a moment in private…” He gave the Scot a short pat on the arm and left.

In the meantime the others had finished their meal and looked expectantly at Sheppard when he approached.

“He seems to be alright. Cole is with him, so I guess it’ll take a while.”

“Thanks for the Jell-O by the way”, exclaimed McKay, still chewing.

“Yes, thank you, Colonel. That was very considerate”, Teyla concurred while Ronon just nodded and lifted his hand in agreement, swallowing the last bites.

“Welcome”, the pilot dismissed, sitting down on Teyla’s bed.

xXxXx

For the most part of the next few hours they sat in silence at Carson’s side. They had given up talking about meaningless things, the fake cheerfulness being too much to bear. During his shift Dr Jollet had only bothered them twice and said nothing after his examinations, which Sheppard took for a good sign, but Rodney wasn’t quite so sure about that. He never told the others; yet, to his mind an air of despair filled the room, and nothing these ‘voodoo apprentices’ did could dissipate this impression.

Just before the lights were dimmed for the night, Elizabeth joined the waiting team, bringing fresh coffee and snacks. She was about to take a seat when the low and soothing voice of Dr Gitano resounded in the peace of the quiet infirmary. “Good evening.”

They all turned towards the doctor.

“I see you are still here waiting. Sis is a really nice touch from you. But you were here already se whole time. Now I must insist sat you go sleep some hours. Miss Emmagan, for you it is time also.”

McKay glared at the physician as if he had just proposed to never use the stargate again. In his opinion the suggestion was completely and utterly absurd. While Teyla and Weir seemed to contemplate the proposition, John and Ronon started to object, obviously liking the idea no better than the astrophysicist.

“All of you are very exhausted”, Gitano defended himself. “You are not doing a favour somebody if you stay until you collapse. You need some sleep. Dr Beckett is doing good, the fever even went down a bit, so you don’t have to worry about.”

Once more the protest began, but Elizabeth cut them short with a commanding tone. “Dr Gitano is right. You all look dead beat. A few hours of sleep won’t hurt. I’ll stay here with Carson over night”, she offered, casting a stern look at each of the men – one they knew better than to challenge.

The doctor wasn’t entirely content with the solution, but being fully aware that this was probably the best arrangement he could achieve, he nodded his agreement. “Okay sen. If anysing is wrong, I will call you.” He briefly checked the monitors and wrote something into the chart. On his way out he threw a reassuring smile at them and wished everybody a good night.

Reluctantly, McKay rose from his chair and watched Sheppard and Ronon help Teyla to her bed before they all headed for their respective quarters. Of course Rodney knew Elizabeth and the Columbian doctor had been right and he was almost literally dead on his feet, but that made leaving Beckett no easier. Somehow the unsettling feeling of having to stay close at Carson’s side just wouldn’t vanish. The only thing that quieted his mind a little was the fact that Weir had stayed there, so his friend wouldn’t be alone. Furthermore, no matter how desperately they needed to crash for a short period of time, he trusted Elizabeth to know how much they all cared for their CMO. She would not hesitate to radio them if anything happened.

After drinking a cup of coffee Elizabeth slowly settled onto the chair nearest to the bed. It had been a long day and despite her vigorous efforts, she had never quite succeeded in pushing her growing concern aside. She regarded Carson’s relaxed features and couldn’t get around her immense disquiet. She had never been one to be easily spooked, but this menagerie of machines and monitors Beckett was connected to, was indeed frightening. Usually he was the one in control of this. This was his very realm. Now seeing him as the patient and in such a poor condition was more than unsettling – it was outright disturbing. Weir leant back and closed her eyes, letting the constant beeping lull her thoughts. The rhythmical noise was unnerving, but it was also a comforting reassurance that the kind-hearted Scot was still alive.

xXxXx

The night passed without incident, and when one by one John, Rodney and Ronon returned to the infirmary in the morning, having rested for a couple of hours and taken a shower, they really looked much better. Too tired for any lengthy conversation, Elizabeth greeted them with a smile followed by a yawn.

“I think there’s someone else who’s in need of a nap,” Sheppard stated.

Weir noticed the colonel wasn’t wearing his usual boots but some more comfortable sneakers, which squealed audibly on the floor. “No time. I have to get back to work”, she replied after a short moment.

“Yeah. I bet you do”, came John’s retort.

“Sheppard, correct me if I’m wrong”, McKay joined in the exchange, “but I seem to distinctly recall someone giving a speech about ‘looking exhausted’ and ‘some sleep wouldn’t hurt’. So don’t give us the same lame excuses we tried on you a few hours back!”

“Come on, Elizabeth”, the pilot’s tone masterfully preparing the final strike, “Atlantis won’t immediately fall apart without her leader. At least not for a few hours if I manage to keep Rodney away from his lab.”

“Haha, very funny, Colonel!” Said physicist crossed his arms in front of him, huffing condescendingly.

Giving a sheepish smile, Elizabeth accepted her defeat with a sigh and tilted her head. If nothing, she was too worn-out to argue any longer, so she gave in and nodded. “Alright.” Gingerly she got up, stretching her sore limbs.

“Don’t worry, I’ll see to McKay not sinking the city”, John called after her, a smug smile on his face.

Rodney paid no attention to the teasing remark. Instead, he carefully eyed Beckett while rinsing the damp cloth. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but somehow the physician looked different than yesterday – worse. It was really more a gut feeling than anything else. So maybe it was just him, and he was only imagining things. Taking in a deep breath, he crouched on one of the chairs, Sheppard and Ronon following suit. There was nothing they could do anyway – nothing but wait.

Twice before noon Dr Cole checked on Beckett, the forced smile and worried face she sported each time she left her patient, equalling a hard punch in the stomach region. McKay confronted her on both occasions but she would simply look away saying she wasn’t sure as of yet, subsequently disappearing in one of the labs. Having his fears sort of confirmed, Rodney realized that as much as he usually enjoyed it to the full, sometimes being right sucked, _big time_.

Several more hours passed before the young doctor hurried back with a stern face. Yet, to the team’s surprise, she didn’t come alone. In tow she had two nurses, who were pushing a strange machine. All four jumped to their feet, startled, nervously gazing at the newly arrived personnel and equipment.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Rodney demanded.

“Excuse us for a moment, will you?” Samantha Cole expressed in no uncertain terms, her chin pointing in the direction of the infirmary’s waiting area. “I will talk to you in a minute. Please.”

Ronon, Teyla, John and Rodney stared at her with a mix of disbelief and annoyance but most of all, concern. When the young physician gave them no heed, they walked off, hearing the nurses draw the curtain shut behind them. John gazed at his team, then wordlessly headed towards the waiting area.

xXxXx

By the time Dr Cole appeared from behind the curtain and motioned them to follow her into Carson’s office, Ronon was positively convinced that both Sheppard and McKay had already left tracks on the floor from their constant pacing. Without doubt, these two geeks must have been a heaven-sent punishment for some horrible crime he had committed in a previous life, as Beckett would have put it. Some time ago, after he had overheard the usually so patient physician curse over Rodney’s whining, Carson had explained to him the concept of rebirth and retribution for past sins. Having spent more than two years on Atlantis by now, the Satedan found the Scotsman’s outburst was alarmingly fitting.

Upon entering the office, Dr Cole was sitting at Carson’s desk, the palms of her hands digging into her eyes as her elbows rested on the table-top. John and Rodney exchanged a quizzical glance, feeling helpless, not sure whether the young doctor was merely tired or crying. It was Teyla, who took the initiative and stepped forward, putting a consoling hand on Samantha’s shoulder, softly whispering, “Dr Cole, are you alright?”

“Yes”, came the subdued answer. “It’s nothing. I’m only a bit short of sleep.” She raised her head and faked a weak smile but the reddened eyes and wet spots on the sleeves of her lab coat betrayed her.


	10. Chapter 10

“Please sit down”, Dr Cole invited calmly but none of them moved. She gave a resigned sigh and rose to her feet. “Alright…” The physician hesitated once more. “You know we run a daily series of blood tests to see whether we’ve been able to fight the infection or if there’s anything wrong. Today we discovered Dr Beckett suffered from acute renal failure, his kidneys are no longer working, which is usually not a good sign… Anyway, we immediately started haemodialysis.”

“Wait”, John interrupted. “Dialysis like people who need a kidney transplant.”

“Exactly. That’s precisely what it is. Since his kidneys are no longer washing the blood, we have to clean it externally in a machine once a day”, Cole explained. A moment of silence filled the small room.

“Okay, you said ‘not a good sign’. How bad?” Rodney inquired.

“Well… Dr Beckett’s condition is still critical but we are…” The young woman looked away from them.

“ _How_ bad?” McKay wasn’t willing to let it go.

“Acute renal failure is not uncommon… but there’s no knowing… As I told you before, organ failure was a possibility… and we started the dialysis…”

“Yeah, yeah”, the physicist cut her short, waving his hand dismissively. “You said something like that… actually, since Tuesday you’ve been simply throwing an awful lot of medical terms at us. Not that I don’t appreciate your jargon and all…”, his arms were now gesturing wildly, “but you see, this doesn’t mean anything to us. I’m not exactly retarded but even a person as brilliant as _I_ am can’t know _everything_ , although I like to think of myself that I do.”

When the shocked doctor didn’t answer immediately, McKay continued, ignoring the colonel’s sharp glare in his direction. “Or do you want me to scan through your medical database and try to make sense of it myself…? So, no excuses! What _precisely_ does this mean?” His voice had grown to a shout.

“Rodney”, Sheppard hissed.

Not used to the physicist’s rants, Dr Cole stood there, aghast, completely taken off her track. The other team members seemed to be less than happy with McKay’s outburst but they looked at her with grave expectation, also waiting for a no-nonsense answer. Realizing she wouldn’t get around it this time, she drew a deep breath and tried to prepare herself for talking straight. When she began at last, her voice was soft, hardly above a whisper, but she looked deep into Rodney’s eyes, for the first time not attempting to mask her feelings. “Okay, you want the truth? Things are not looking up. In fact, I’m afraid this could be the first instance of multi-organ failure.”

Another pause settled in.

“What are his chances?” John asked eventually.

Dr Cole swallowed hard. “For a full recovery…” She closed her eyes. “…less than 15 percent.”

Rodney felt the ground rock underneath his unsteady feet and the thunderous silence roared in his ears. Figures, statistics were his forte, and they’d beaten odds far worse than 15 percent. And Beckett plus staff had already proven they were capable of working miracles. Yes, their ‘voodoo rituals’ were rather successful to say the least. But in his mind Carson was the infirmary. So, with Carson out of the picture and Cole saying there was nothing they could do, he simply had hardly any trust in the other ‘witchdoctors’. All of a sudden 15 percent seemed like an unsurpassable threshold. Getting over his state of shock, he dashed out of the office to the area shielded from view and drew back the curtain.

The strange machine they had seen earlier was now standing next to Carson’s bed, two huge tubes led to the dark-haired man and ended in two gigantic needles sticking in his right arm. The physicist froze at the disturbing sight. Seeing the blood being pumped through the machine, was more than he could bear. His stomach rebelled and he began to retch. Hands flying towards his mouth, he turned away and fled.

Sheppard wanted to follow him but Teyla grabbed his arm. “Not. Dr McKay needs a moment for himself. Colonel… John, he will come back on his own.” Her voice was soft and understanding.

For a second the pilot appeared as though he intended to pull free while he considered Teyla’s pleading. Finally, he gave in and stepped back towards the infirmary bed. Carefully eying the dialysis device and the tubes, he couldn’t help but comprehend why Rodney had been so upset. It was a most unsettling sight, but he refused to let Ronon or Teyla see how much it affected him too. Sitting down and looking into Beckett’s peaceful face, Sheppard was glad the doctor was not awake during the whole procedure. From own experience he knew that if at all there could be an advantage to a drug-induced coma, it was the painlessness.

xXxXx

After endless hours, the dialysis machine was finally removed and John began to wonder where Rodney was. He checked his watch and noticed that more than five hours had passed since the scientist’s hurried departure. With a tap to his radio he activated the com. “Sheppard to McKay.” But there was no response. Teyla rolled her eyes and exchanged a knowing glance with Ronon. A few unsuccessful tries later, John took to more devious methods and radioed Zelenka instead.

Impatiently he waited for Radek to come up with information about Rodney’s hideaway. It took nearly 15 minutes before he heard the static crackle, which always preceded incoming calls.

“Colonel Sheppard”, the Czech accent was unmistakable, “this is Zelenka. I found Rodney. But I had to sneak out again so that he doesn’t know you sent me to look for him. He has locked himself in one of the labs, says he has important work to do and doesn’t want to be interrupted.” After a short pause he added, “Actually, he shooed me out of the lab with some _very_ unpleasant terms.”

John chuckled heartily; the last part was so much like Rodney. Teyla, Ronon and Elizabeth, who had just entered the infirmary, shot Sheppard a quizzical look, completely puzzled by the unexpected reaction. “Just a second”, he mouthed to them. “Thank you, Radek”, he said with a smile, then disclosed, “McKay told Zelenka whereto he could go.”

The Satedan’s face lit up, he had an all too vivid imagination of that scene. Elizabeth still didn’t understand what was going on. She was about to ask when Teyla gave John a reassuring nod, “I am sure Dr McKay will return any minute now.”  
It was another three hours before he did.

xXxXx

Another night came and went. This time, after having read in the chart, Dr Gitano had refrained from kicking them out of the infirmary to get some rest. Somehow the visitors couldn’t shake the unsettling feeling that there was a very good reason to it, one they didn’t like. Yet, despite a marginal rise of Carson’s fever, nothing had happened; a fact they all appreciated greatly.

In the morning, after a thorough examination by Dr Cole, Teyla was discharged from the infirmary at last. She was not surprised to hear she wasn’t to overdo it or that she wasn’t cleared for even light duty before another week. The young Athosian was not iching to be on duty again since the only place she wanted to be was near her friend, the man who had saved her life a week ago.

Wearing again her own clothes instead of scrubs, she came over to where John, Rodney and Ronon had almost literally _fallen_ to sleep. Elizabeth had left roughly two hours before, claiming she needed some sleep, but they all knew too well she had gone back to her office. John in particular had not been happy about that; yet, there was nothing he could do, so he let it slip without comment. Hearing Teyla approach, the colonel blinked sleepily and tried to move his stiff limbs. Ronon was already sitting up as if he had never closed his eyes when Sheppard cast a short glance at the Satedan. Rodney on the other hand was still snoring noisily in his seat, taking no head at all. She smiled at the three men and offered to get breakfast from the mess hall.

By the time Teyla returned with a huge tray of food, McKay still hadn’t stirred. For the better part of a second Sheppard considered letting the scientist sleep through their mealtime, but at last he nodded towards Ronon, who stood next to Rodney’s chair.

“That can be amended”, Dex murmured, a vicious grin unfolding on his lips.

With one swift move he inflicted a powerful kick upon the legs of the chair, sending it sliding away a few feet. If not for John’s quick intervention of supporting McKay’s shoulders, the physicist would have landed on the floor. He woke with a start. “What?! Not my fault!”

The others burst into a laugh, and Teyla only just managed to hold on to the tray, which swayed dangerously to the rhythm of her sniggering.

Realizing what had happened, Rodney was fuming. “Are you crazy?! I could have broken my neck! And why are you laughing like mad?”

“Your face”, Ronon pressed out.

“Priceless”, John threw in.

“Haha, very funny”, the scientist scowled grumpily.

A nurse appeared next to the curtain, looking less than pleased, but her stern expression made it even harder to stop chortling.

“This is an infirmary, not a pub! There are patients in here who need their rest. If you can’t behave yourself, you had better leave”, she reprimanded. Giving the group no opportunity to reply, she stamped away. Calming down, they smirked at each other. Then Teyla placed the tray on the night stand.

After their extensive breakfast, both John and Rodney feared their stomachs might blow any second, only Ronon looked as if his hunger wasn’t entirely satisfied yet. When she spotted Dr Cole heading towards Carson’s office, Teyla said she needed to talk to the young physician and left. When she reappeared from the office, the women were fondly smiling at each other.

“…of course.” Dr Cole patted Teyla on the shoulder.

“Thank you, Doctor Cole.” Teyla gave her a smile that would have melted the south pole, Sheppard reflected dryly. The two women were obviously getting along well.

“Call me Samantha.” At this, John almost choked on his orange juice while Rodney simply gaped at them with his mouth standing wide open. They were obviously getting along _very_ well.

“Thank you… Samantha.” The Athosian turned her attention again at her team mates, who stared at her questioningly. “Last night I had an idea”, she explained, “and I asked if I was allowed to do it. Now I have to ask Dr Weir before I go to the mainland. If anything happens while I am away, please call me immediately.” Not caring the least that her words didn’t answer the unspoken question at all, Teyla hurried out of the infirmary again, taking with her the empty tray.

xXxXx

As she approached the office overlooking the Gateroom, she saw that Elizabeth had not taken a break but was working on the laptop. The Athosian smiled and knocked on the door before she entered. “Elizabeth, do you have a minute?”

“Of course, Teyla. Come in. Is anything wrong?” The expedition leader offered her a seat.

“No, everything seems to be fine. I wanted to talk to you about something else.”

“How are you feeling? Have you been released from the infirmary?” Elizabeth eyed her carefully.

“Yes, I was released this morning, and I am feeling good,” Teyla assured her.

“Good. What can I do for you?” the dark-haired woman shoved her laptop aside.

“The Athosians have a tradition. When a boy comes to manhood, he must pass a ritual to show his strength and skill, to prove he is mature enough to be counted among the men of my people.” Teyla studied Weir’s face, searching for any hint that would give her away, but Elizabeth’s expression was unreadable. She purposefully didn’t let on what she was thinking.

Warily the young Athosian continued. “While all the men of the village take part in that ritual to witness the boy’s passing from childhood to manhood, the women of the family gather inside and perform a ritual which gives the boy strength to pass the test. This ceremony stands in high honour among my people and can also be held when exceptional hardships lie on the path of a man.” She paused once more to let the words sink in and study Elizabeth’s face before coming to the crucial point.

“You have told me many times that we are a family here on Atlantis. I would like to perform this ritual for Dr Beckett to give him strength. And I invite you to take part in it.”

Elizabeth thought about it for a moment, then smiled at Teyla. “I’m honoured that you asked me, Teyla. And I will gladly take part. Where do you intend to do it?”

“I have already spoken to Dr Cole. She allowed the ceremony in the infirmary, and she agreed to taking part as well.”

“Fine. Just tell me when.” Weir nodded, expecting the conversation to be over.

“I will. But first I need some things from the mainland.”

Looking up from her laptop, Elizabeth replied, “No problem. Ask Major Lorne. I’m sure he will fly you over.”

“Thank you”, the Athosian said on her way out of the office.

xXxXx

Major Lorne had jumped at the opportunity to give Teyla a hand when he heard what she was planning to do. He felt still guilty for not abandoning his picture instead of going fishing with Beckett. Of course the fact that Carson was alive had lifted some of that weight off him but the heavier part lingered on. What worth had a painting compared to a life? He was still deeply ashamed for having chosen the lifeless canvas over the well-being of a friend then. He knew about the Scot’s condition and would have given anything to go and pay him a visit, but just like Radek, he wasn’t allowed to enter the intensive care unit. This privilege was reserved for Carson’s closest friends, and he understood that.

xXxXx

While Teyla was gone, Carson had endured another dialysis, and later on his fever had risen to 106 degrees. Dr Jollet had injected something into the IV port and told several nurses to discard the blanket covering the physician’s body and put cold compresses round his legs and torso. McKay had shuddered at the thought of the cool cloths and begun to shiver in sympathy with his friend. Apparently unmoved, John and Ronon had watched. But even though they didn’t let on, all three of them had felt the cold creep into their bodies and minds, and the knot in their stomachs had grown to the size of a rock.

Shortly before nightfall, Teyla had returned from the former Athosian settlement and with Elizabeth in tow rejoined the waiting party. The two women had been shocked to find the Scot’s condition had deteriorated during the afternoon. With the help of the fresh compresses every 30 minutes, the fever had gone down by 0.4 degrees; too little if Sheppard interpreted the doctors’ faces correctly.

Now, halfway through the nightshift, Weir had dozed off on her seat, Rodney had pulled up a second chair to support his feet while napping, and John’s head rested on his arms on the foot of Carson’s bed. Teyla lay outstretched on the adjacent infirmary bed, not asleep but eyes staring into the far distance. Ronon, being weary of just sitting around, leaned absentmindedly against the wall, arms folded in front of him. The night nurse sneaked in, trying to check the displays without making too much noise. Assessing the monitors, she stifled a gasp and stormed out, no longer caring about startling anybody awake. The sudden clamour had alerted four of the five visitors and Sheppard gave McKay a not too gentle jab on the shoulder to rouse him. Therefore, all of them stood upright in anxiety as Dr Gitano hurried towards his patient. He concentrated on the readings while Rodney nervously bit his lip, unable to hide his fear.

The Columbian doctor sighed deeply, then fumbled at the control panel of the ventilator before he met their worried faces. It seemed as if someone had flipped a switch, for what they saw in the shadowy eyes of the physician made their blood turn to ice-water. The dark circles underneath his eyes became more prominent and his expression revealed a broken old man who was on the verge of defeat. The five of them stared at him blankly, prompting him to say aloud what they already knew from his bloodless face.

“Dr Beckett’s oxygen saturation has fallen, and I increased se pressure for counteract sis.” A long pause followed in which Gitano was clearly at a loss for words. There was no easy way to tell something like that. Finally he spoke again, his voice tinged with regret and sorrow. “Besides se oxygen saturation, his heart rate decreased considerably. Sere is nosing more we can do. I’m afraid multi-organ failure is imminent. He is dying. Unless a miracle happens, it can be over any minute now.”

The shell-shocked team stood there, aghast, frozen to salt statures, unable to move or say a word. Trembling and with unseeing eyes they gazed for an endless moment into nothingness as cruel silence flooded the room, threatening to drown them.

And it was Sunday…


	11. Chapter 11

After an eternity, in which time seemed to have come to a halt, the initial shock had subsided but the pain ran deep down to the core and vehemently refused to ebb away. Hours had passed since Dr Gitano’s bluntly delivered news. They had steeled themselves for the worst but nothing had happened so far; therefore, they all had settled down again. With grim faces they stared at the motionless figure of their friend or way beyond.

John could see it in their faces; they all reflected on their friendship with the gentle Scot, or in his case, on the general unfairness of what seemed inevitable now. ‘Beckett of all people didn’t deserve this. Carson was such a kind soul and passionate healer; he would even put Mother Teresa to shame!’

Involuntarily Sheppard remembered their first encounter and couldn’t suppress a faint snicker. When he had approached Beckett in Antarctica, he had felt like smacking him over the head for his boasting about the incident with the drone. But he had immediately taken to the man as soon as he had angrily glared into those deep blue eyes while the physician had stammered a heartfelt apology with his thick Scottish brogue. ‘Holy heaven, Carson could kill someone with his patented lost-puppy-look!’

Lazily the colonel looked at Ronon’s angry stance. It was his turn now to pace the immediate vicinity of the bed like a caged cheetah, impatiently clenching and unclenching his fists. Obviously the Satedan was ready to explode; but lacking an enemy to fight against, he had no idea whereto he could direct his rage. Hell, John himself knew the feeling of furious helplessness too well.

When the time for breakfast came and went, still none of the team made any indication to move from Beckett’s side. They were hungry alright, but they would be damned if they put their own convenience above the care for a close friend.

All of a sudden, Ronon’s expression relaxed considerably and the faintest of smiles crossed his face. Puzzled by his strange behaviour, John and Teyla slowly turned their heads in the very direction. They didn’t see what had attracted the Satedan’s attention, for their view was partially blocked by the curtain. To everyone’s surprise, two figures entered the small cubical, nurses Betsy Alighieri and Raphael Wilder, both carrying a tray laden with seemingly everything the mess hall held for breakfast.

“When his shift ended, Dr Gitano told us to get you something to eat if you hadn’t done so by now,” Wilder answered their questioning glances. He was an easy-going young man, who shrugged off any stress with a cheerful smile.

“Thank you”, Elizabeth replied.

The nurses set the trays down on the night stand and left. As if starvation had been close at hand, the five of them turned on the piles of food, annihilating every single bite in the process.

xXxXx

An hour later, when Dr Cole checked the vitals, Teyla spoke up. “It is time to prepare the ritual.”

Sheppard, McKay and Ronon looked completely at a loss what to make of that statement, but the two women nodded in agreement.

“I will explain later”, was all the young Athosian said. With that, Dr Cole retreated to Carson’s office while Teyla and Elizabeth headed out of the infirmary, leaving three most amazed men staring after them.

When the two of them returned again, John, Rodney and Ronon doubted their eyes. The expedition leader wore the long light turquoise dress Teyla had held the ring ceremony for Charin in. Since Elizabeth was taller than the other woman, the dress was a fair bit shorter on her but she looked stunning nevertheless, as did the Athosian warrior, who wore a light green dress that went down to her ankles. Upon passing the CMO’s office, Samantha opened the door and pushed out a handcart with several earthen bowls, a gigantic white candle and a huge transparent receptacle. Her lab coat was gone, and she sported a dark red linen dress, which ended just below her knees.

The waiting men gaped with eyes wide as saucers, and their curiosity was beyond measure. Beaming mischievously, the approaching women obviously enjoyed their big entrance to the full. John’s ears turned red, and Rodney looked as though he might fall over any second; only Ronon at least tried to keep up his tough image.

“Gentlemen”, Weir greeted.

“I think I owe you an explanation”, Teyla began. When she had finished, neither John, Rodney, nor Ronon seemed too happy. Not that they distasted the idea of the ritual – which frankly was also a factor for the astrophysicist –, actually, both John and Ronon thought it was a neat and thoughtful gesture. Yet that they were essentially shoed out of the infirmary for the duration of the ceremony because it was strictly reserved for women, didn’t agree with them at all. Truth be told, this had the sour taste of being left out and excluded from the family.

“Please. It is of vital importance that you leave. And the ritual will take less than an hour, I promise”, Teyla pleaded, hoping for acceptance.

“I can understand that you are unwilling to leave Dr Beckett now of all times”, Dr Cole admitted.

“We all know”, Elizabeth’s sympathetic voice soothed.

“Dr Beckett’s condition hasn’t deteriorated in the last few hours. But I won’t gloss things over. It is still touch and go, but he is bravely holding his own for the time being.”

The three women looked expectantly at the men in front of them. For any beholder it gave the impression of a stand-off, a stalemate of sorts. The moment lasted for a minute or two, and neither party was willing to back off an inch. Yet at last, reason won over hurt feelings.

“Fine.” Sheppard gave in reluctantly and stormed out.

With a grunt Ronon followed close behind. McKay pondered his move an instant longer before he too exited the infirmary mumbling misgivings on the way.

“We will call you immediately…”, Weir began.

“Whatever!” Rodney was gone before Elizabeth could finish her sentence.

Teyla stared down to the floor, dismayed. She had hoped for a different reaction from her team members. But it didn’t matter now. This wasn’t about them, this was solely about Carson.

Together they put the receptacle, which was about two square-feet big, on the ground. Beside it they assembled the bowls and the candle, then knelt down around it. Leading the ceremony, Teyla faced the bed while Elizabeth and Samantha were on the left and right side of the transparent vessel. Carson in his bed represented the fourth side.

Solemnly the young Athosian reached for one of the bowls and slowly emptied it.

“ _This is our Mother Earth._ ”

The soil built a small mound inside the receptacle. Then she took the second bowl.

“ _This water is the well of life._ ”

Gently the fresh water flowed around the mound. She took the last jar, reached inside and produced from it a small amount of shining red powder, which she scattered on the summit of the mound between three fingers. After that, Teyla reached for the candle and placed it on top of the powder, firmly pressing it down to guarantee stability. She lit a match and set the candle aglow.

“ _The fire, which in taking gives._ ”

Protectively the Athosian held her curved hands over the candle and lightly puffed in its direction while the flame became brighter.

“ _The very air we breathe_  
 _Surrounds us_  
 _And protects us_  
 _If He please._ ”

When the candle was fully aglow, Teyla held out her hands for the other two women to take, creating a circle, they joined hands and closed their eyes. The Athosian quietly started to sing. Her soft clear voice filled the infirmary and rang out to the corridors beyond.

_In the moment of weakness_

_In the moment of pain_

_In a time when all hope seems lost_

_Strength may come to the one who needs it most!_

xXxXx

Not having missed Ronon’s suppressed anger, John knew exactly where the warrior was headed to and led the way. He wanted nothing more than beat the crap out of someone or something, and sparring with the furious Satedan was the right thing to do when he wanted to blow off steam.

A decision the pilot regretted dearly when he rubbed his sore arms and back twenty minutes and a number of painful work-overs later. Ronon could be a brute in any training session, but when he was seriously pissed, even the Terminator wouldn’t have been a match for the former runner. Sheppard had never stood a chance against him, and the man hadn’t even _meant_ to hurt the colonel.

John crawled away from his friend, who had gone berserk on him just a few times too often, and defensively raised a hand to let Ronon know he didn’t want to continue the unilateral fight. Certainly he initially had had something different in mind than having beaten the living daylights out of him.

“Did I hurt you, Sheppard?” Dex looked down at him with a mixture of amusement and concern.

“No.” Getting up, the pilot tried to keep his dignity intact as best he could. “I just need a short time-out. Why don’t you go torture one of the dummies in the meantime, big guy?”

Ronon looked slightly offended by that comment but turned away and began to rough up a near sand bag. Watching the scene for a moment, Sheppard realized the Satedan had actually attempted to restrain himself while sparring with him. If the sand bag had been a real person, John was convinced that even a brilliant physician like Beckett would have had a hard time patching them up again. ‘Okay, so much for getting off steam’, he thought. ‘Where had McKay gone anyway?’

xXxXx

Being rudely expelled from the infirmary, Rodney had wandered the corridors of Atlantis in search of some other place where he could feel close to his friend. Finally, he found himself at the door of Carson’s quarters. Hesitantly he opened it and entered. The sight and the returning memory momentarily knocked the wind out of the scientist. The room was empty. Nothing reminded of its inhabitant anymore. How could he have forgotten? Tears welling up in his eyes, McKay thought of the awful and thankless task of clearing his friend’s quarters and packing his personal items into boxes. It had ripped out his heart that day. And it did so now.

Eying around the deserted room, he was overwhelmed with emotions. In the night, Dr Gitano had told them that Carson was dying. In this place it felt like he was already gone, or had never been here at all. Reflecting on the irony of today being Sunday again, he chuckled mirthlessly. A few moments Rodney struggled for his composure before letting himself sink on the sheetless bed and allowing the tears to flow freely.

When the tears stopped at last, McKay had set up his mind. His despair was replaced by determination. The rational part of his mind, which usually dominated all his actions tried in vain to convince him that it was nothing but a waste of time and effort. But no matter how bad the prognosis was, no matter how futile it seemed or how great the likelihood of having to undo his action was, _now_ it was the right thing to do. He sluggishly got up and started to unpack the first box. He concentrated on meticulously recalling where every single item of Carson’s stuff had been. To make it his friend’s quarters again, he needed to put everything back into the right place.

A sudden chime of the doorbell made the physicist jump from his work. ‘Who the hell could that be? What would anyone want in Carson’s quarters? And what was more, why would that person bother to use the doorbell?’ A second, more persistent chime rang through the room. Irritably Rodney walked over to the door and opened it to find Colonel Sheppard standing in front of him.

“What are you doing here? And how did you know I was here?” the scientist inquired.

“Just a hunch”, John answered evenly as he entered. But McKay no longer paid him any attention. His eyes had fallen on one particular item inside one of the boxes instead, and he stared at it in amazement before returning to his task. Sheppard shrugged and silently joined his friend.

xXxXx

One and a half hours later both men got back to the infirmary. Just like when rearranging Beckett’s belongings, they didn’t talk. Ronon, Teyla and Elizabeth, who had changed into their usual clothing, shot them a quizzical gaze.

“Where have the two of you been?” Weir asked straight away. “We almost posted ‘missing’ notes on the milk packages in the mess.”

Not exactly in the mood for good-natured teasing, neither Rodney nor John graced the question with an answer.

“Anything?” Sheppard asked instead.

“No, no change at all”, Elizabeth informed them rubbing the bridge of her nose tiredly.

The pilot took a seat next to Teyla, his anger at the Athosian had subsided completely. McKay on the other hand approached the bed and fumbled inside his jacket, struggling to get something out of one of the pockets. Cursing under his breath, he produced a small, bright yellow plush turtle with a lime green shell and a cute embroidered face. It was the turtle Laura Cadman had sent on the Daedalus to Atlantis, telling Beckett she had assumed care for his little pets after his unexpected and hastened departure to the Pegasus Galaxy. That overjoyed smile plastered on Carson’s face upon receiving the message was still vivid in their memory. The physician had been guilt-ridden for days on end when he had believed he had left his ‘poor wee buggers’ to die.

“Here, this is for you. Brings you luck, you know.” Swallowing hard, Rodney gently placed the soft, one ft. turtle next to Carson’s head on the bed and gave it a tender pat on the shell. Yet immediately, his face became stern again, and he looked intently into the Scot’s face as if waiting for a reaction. With an accusatory tone in his voice he continued, “You know, me and flyboy here spent the last two hours stuffing back your things in your quarters.”

Elizabeth, Teyla and Ronon threw the newly arrivals a questioning glance but said nothing. John nodded briefly.

“You owe us something for that.” The physicist’s voice rose to a scalding shout, “So don’t you dare die on us, you stubborn Scottish sheep-cuddler!” After a long pause he added firmly, “And we really have to talk about that skirt you’re hiding in your room.”

Dr Weir and the colonel burst into a laughing fit. Even Rodney was now unable to keep his face straight. Poor Ronon and Teyla had not the slightest idea what they were sniggering about. Particularly the Satedan was quite disturbed at the thought of the doctor wearing a skirt. In his mind he filed it under ‘Sometimes the Lanteans are strange’. John looked at him and doubled over laughing. Ronon shook his head. ‘Indeed, sometimes the Lanteans were _very_ strange.’

xXxXx

All except for Ronon had fallen into an uneasy slumber and silence had embraced the group when the heavy steps of a bulky man closed in, at a distance followed by the light steps of a woman. Despite his appearance, the man attempted to tread softly, for he knew too well how exhausted they all were from staying at Carson’s side. Dr Jollet checked the readings thoroughly and frowned. He had expected a slight change but nothing like that.

Although he at first had made an effort not to wake anyone, he realized this development couldn’t wait. They needed to know, _now_. He noisily and dramatically cleared his throat. The colonel and Miss Emmagan instantly jumped to their feet, alarmed. Dr Weir blinked sleepily and sat up while the astrophysicist didn’t stir at all. The French physician just wanted to repeat his action but the pilot was faster. He stamped his right foot heavily on the ground and hissed, “McKay!”

“What?!” Rodney was awake in a heart beat. “Oh”, he then mumbled with resignation. From experience he knew, this didn’t bode well. Panic made its way up his throat.

“Well, what is it, Doctor?” Elizabeth crossed her arms, suddenly feeling cold. This was definitely not the time to exchange pleasantries.

To their utter surprise the expression on the physician’s face softened, and for a change, a warm smile reached his eyes. “Dr Beckett’s heart rate has improved to an almost normal frequency. The fever has gone down, and we were finally able to get a grip on the infection.” He sighed. “I can’t promise you anything just yet, and he is by far not out of the woods, but if his recent progression is any indication, Dr Beckett might even pull through.”

Dr Jollet let the words sink in and watched their facial expressions lighten up, going from deepest worry to incredulity to utmost relief. This was certainly the kind of news he loved to deliver.

“Thank goodness!” Weir exclaimed with a relieved sigh. The unbearable tension was broken like it had shattered on the ground, and everybody dropped to their chairs beaming with delight. The joy they felt was almost tangible.

Not wanting to disturb their privacy any longer, Jollet turned to go. Right after he had drawn back the curtain, someone pulled him into a fierce hug. Since her shift had ended hours ago, he realized that his colleague had obviously also kept vigil over the CMO. He lightly patted her back.

“I know, Sam. I know…”


	12. Chapter 12

Sheppard noticed it first; though no one else seemed to do so. The awkward, depressed silence, which had been lingering for days, was gone. All around the infirmary he heard people chatting or softly whistling tunes to themselves while going along their business. Teyla and Elizabeth were engaged in an eager discussion about different ceremonies and rituals of the Athosian people. But even when the conversation died down and the quiet of the night slowly settled in, it seemed peaceful and companionable. Although still fragile, something pivotal had returned to the somber ward, HOPE.

Two hours earlier, when Dr Jollet had come to disconnect the dialysis machine, he had observed that Beckett’s fever had fallen below 103 degrees. The doctor had called two nurses to remove the cold compresses and spread a light blanket over the unconscious form of their boss again.

‘Things are finally looking up’, the physician had told them; a great burden seemed to have lifted from his shoulders. Leaning in closely, John had realized that Carson actually looked much better. The swelling of his face had gone down a bit, and it had turned a more healthy colour. Jollet had also suggested for them to take a nap. They had nodded and smiled in reply but not so much as moved a single inch. Had Sheppard been able to read the other’s mind, he would have learned a whole variety of French curses about stubbornness.

What the one doctor hadn’t accomplished, his colleague from the night shift did at last. As soon as Dr Gitano had seen the improvement in his patient’s condition, a softness had graced his features that let him appear younger by ten years. Then he shoed them out, strongly disinclined to accept ‘no’ for an answer.

“Ladies, Gentlemen, you have proven sat you are good friends but now it is time to go. For se moment se immediate danger is past. No need to keep up constant vigil. You can get your sleep now. I will call you if anysing is wrong.”

A protest formed on five mouths at the same time.

Impatiently the doctor raised his hand to reject any upcoming argument. “I will not discuss sat matter wis you. And you will not help him nor you if you break down from exhaustion.” In an understanding but firm tone he added, “I don’t want to see one of you in se infirmary again while my night shift. After all, we have rules for se intensive care area, remember? You can come back in se morning, in pairs of two a time.”

Realizing they would be fighting a losing battle, they rose reluctantly from their places. Rodney stifled a yawn and stretched melodramatically, hoping Dr Gitano would leave and give him a chance to stay behind. But the experienced Columbian was no one to be fooled so easily. He stood next to the curtain and eyed the physicist suspiciously, waiting for the entire group to lead the way.

“After you.” Not a request but an order.

Giving the physician one last exasperated glare that could have melted steel, McKay marched arrogantly by, catching up with his team mates at the door.

xXxXx

Elizabeth felt rested; in fact, for the first time in almost a week she had found the calm to relax and sleep for more than two or three hours. Too much had occupied her thoughts and office. While her mind had finally been able to shut out all the worries which had wracked her nerves, her work lay in piles on her desk, the neatly arranged files laughing at her, mockingly demanding attention. But for the first time in three years of self-denying service for the Ancient city and her inhabitants, she didn’t care.

She paused briefly in mid-stride to look out of one of her large windows. The sudden commotion in the Gateroom below had distracted her from her reflections. One of the off-world teams was coming back through the gate. They were handing sacks of supplies to the personnel standing around. Contentedly Weir smiled at herself. This mission had obviously been a success and gone down smoothly as none of the team members showed any sign of an injury. For once letting the teasing mood get the better of her, she considered reminding John that it really _was_ possible to come back from a mission unscathed, unmaimed and generally in one piece. She enjoyed the quip exchanges with him more than she ever cared to admit. ‘Well, no rest for the wicked though.’ Still smiling, she sighed and got down to her work.

xXxXx

Both McKay and Sheppard had neglected their work for one week now, but no one held it against them. Everyone understood that they had almost lost one of their closest friends. Even if the Air Force Colonel wouldn’t let it on, he had suffered just as much as their head scientist had. And in their upset state, neither of them would have been any good at their work, for they wouldn’t have been able to muster the due concentration. Also, Major Lorne and Dr Zelenka had been more than ready to take over for a short period of time. Actually, if the clearing-up team hadn’t discovered Dr Beckett just in the nick of time before the pall-bearers had left Atlantis, both men would have been gone for a week anyway, to attend the funeral in the CMO’s native Scotland.

Although he trusted the major with his very life, John dreaded his return to work. Lorne was no more a man for paper work than he himself was. So the pilot assumed his 2IC had only done what had been necessary, leaving the vast majority for his superior. Sheppard couldn’t grudge him this attitude. He would have done exactly _that_ in Lorne’s stead.

Deciding his paper work could wait a few more hours, John started for the infirmary, where he was surprised to find Rodney already sitting at Carson’s side. The man was balancing his laptop on his knees and eagerly typing on his keyboard. The physicist grinned like a five-year old upon Sheppard’s arrival.

“I can also work from here”, he answered in response to his friend’s questioning glance. He tapped his forehead with his right index finger and continued, “You know, my biggest asset are my brains, and fortunately my brilliance accompanies me everywhere!” The statement was followed by an extensive gesture which almost caused the computer to slip from McKay’s legs.

“Really?!” the colonel teased back. “From what I heard, Radek said he was much better off without you raining destruction on the labs.”

“He did, now?” Rodney asked looking up from the screen.

“You better believe it. He also said he would never have gotten as much work done with you around.”

“Fine. I’ll make sure to teach that little, messy-haired gnome what a true genius is capable of.” McKay shot an accusatory stare at Sheppard.

“Preaching to the choir here.” The pilot vainly tried to hide his amusement while raising his hands defensively. Now that their worry was eased a little, the old snark mode was back with a vengeance. And it was a most welcome feeling, too.

xXxXx

Teyla slipped gracefully down onto one of the chairs. At noon she had taken over from Sheppard and McKay. She smiled to herself as she remembered the conversation they had been engrossed in when she had entered the infirmary. It was good to see her team mates go back to normal after the last frantic days.

Carefully she regarded Carson, her keen eyes searching for obvious and subtle changes in his condition. His fever had settled at 102.7, which was hopefully a good sign, and the beeping of the heart rate monitor was steady-paced and regular. Affectionately stroking away a stray lock of his hair, she whispered, “You are looking much better, Doctor.”

“Yes, he is”, came a sudden reply from the curtain. Startled, the Athosian looked up. Intent on her assessment, she hadn’t heard Samantha approaching. After a brief pause the physician added, “I need to change the dressings. Will you give us a minute?”

“Of course.” Teyla rose from her seat.

“And afterwards I would like to have a look at your stitches too. Choose one of the treatment cubicals over there and I’ll be right with you.” The physician pointed to the admittance area.

xXxXx

Sheppard found his office in better shape than he had left it in. There were two piles of files on his desk, one consisting of only two or three files and the other towering menacingly above it. It didn’t take a seer to know which pile was the ‘to do’ list. He sat down heavily and sighed before reaching for the topmost file. With a frown he put it on his desk again and grabbed the next one. To his complete astonishment he realized that the higher pile was the one Lorne had already worked over meticulously. They were even arranged in chronological order. The only thing John needed to do was scanning through and giving them his final approval.

“Good to have you back, sir,” Maj. Lorne greeted from the door.

“Thanks, Major.” The pilot gave him a cordial smile. “Your work?” he added after a moment.

“Yes, sir. I thought you might…”, he hesitated, unsure what his CO was aiming at. “Anything wrong?”

“No. Actually, I was just wondering if Caldwell subjected you to a brainwashing session or if you have simply been bored out of your shoes.”

Both men shared a brief chuckle before Lorne answered. “No. No brainwashing, sir.”

When the major turned to go, Sheppard called after him.

“Yes, sir?” He returned to the doorframe.

A short awkward silence spread between them.

“Thank you, Major. Good work”, John finally said.

“Any time, sir.”

xXxXx

Legs adangle, Teyla patiently waited on the exam bed for Dr Cole. She liked the young physician; and their recent joint venture of holding the ritual had brought them even closer. Prior to the ceremony, they had had a long talk about the Athosian’s culture, and Samantha had appeared genuinely interested in learning more about it. Teyla hated to admit it, but sometimes she still felt like a stranger among the Lantians. Their culture was so different from that of her people, and there were not many who understood the importance of keeping up her own traditions, especially since the Athosians from the mainland had left. Dr Weir did. But her time was very limited. Maybe the young doctor would…

“Sorry for the delay”, Dr Cole exclaimed as she swiftly passed the curtain, interrupting Teyla’s thoughts.

“There is no need for you to apologize. Is everything alright with Dr Beckett?” She asked concerned.

“Yes, he is fine. After we finally got the infection and fever under control, his wounds are healing nicely, and he’s getting stronger by the minute. I think he has turned the corner now. Perhaps we can even start to let him wake up tomorrow and then slowly try to wean him off the ventilator”, she chimed, her face beaming with contentment while thoroughly examining the Athosian’s sutures.

“That is good news indeed.”

Applying a new band aid to the young woman’s side, Dr Cole proceeded, “Yes, it certainly is. And your sutures are also looking fine. Carson has done an amazing job.” With a light pat on her patient’s shoulder, an affectionate gesture she had adopted from her boss, she saw Teyla to the ICU again.

When the physician headed towards Beckett’s office, a soft hand held her back.

“Samantha. Do you have a moment to… talk?” Teyla looked expectantly at her.

“Sure.” Dr Cole took the seat beside the other woman. “What’s up?”


	13. Chapter 13

If he had thought waking up from drug-induced sleep had been hard, he found that coming round after a medically induced coma was a whole other matter; although he suspected that his waking was purposefully delayed. The first thing he became aware of was a faint beeping sound and just before he sank back into oblivion, the familiar smell of disinfectant. When he briefly surfaced once again, he heard a low murmur underlying the constant beep. But soon his mind faded into nothingness. The slightest of touches brought him back to awareness with a start. A strange, detached feeling of discomfort ebbed through his brain as the darkness once more tightened its grip. This time however, the dull beeping followed him far into the mist.

When his awareness kicked in again, he directed his energy into focussing on all the distant sensations which penetrated the fog in his mind, and he finally managed to stay afloat. Desperately trying to cling to the sounds, the peaceful murmur slowly transformed into voices, seemingly coming from far away. He attempted to concentrate on the voices but they were still too faint to make out.

As time passed, he occasionally overheard shreds of conversations and recognized different speakers. Savouring every moment of awareness, realization slowly leaked through: _He was still alive_. And when they allowed him to wake up, this could only mean one thing, the immediate danger must have passed. A feeling beyond joy filled the small space of his existence, and he spent an eternity just listening to his friends: Sheppard and McKay’s playful banter, Elizabeth and Teyla’s calm presence, or Ronon’s grim quietness, which always held an aura of strength. Lying there, attempting to keep the looming darkness at bay, he drifted on the verge of consciousness. Lacking any perception of time, it eluded him whether he remained in this state for hours, days or mere minutes.

“Hey”, Rodney’s attention shifted away from his exchange with John, “I think he just moved.”

“Yeah, sure. You’re only trying to distract me from the fact that this brilliant mind of yours can’t come up with an appropriate return.”

Had he been able to muster the strength, Carson would have burst out laughing at the remark.

“Look, there.” Rodney pointed to the twitching corners of Beckett’s mouth. “Do you believe me now?”

“Is something wrong, Colonel?” Jollet was immediately concerned upon seeing Sheppard and McKay intently looking at the CMO’s face when he and a nurse entered the cubical to start the dialysis.

“I think he just moved”, the astrophysicist informed the doctor cheerfully.

“Oh, that wouldn’t surprise me at all”, the bulky physician replied with a smile. “Dr Beckett is still quite out of it but he’s been conscious for some time now.”

“How would you know? And why didn’t you tell us in the first place?” Rodney spat out, both annoyance and disappointment evident in his voice.

Dr Jollet simply shrugged before he moved to the head of the bed, where the pilot was lightly squeezing Carson’s right hand and feigned exasperation, yet couldn’t suppress a broad grin, “Seems like our good doc here has been eavesdropping for a while then. That’s not very polite, you know.”

Curious at how responsive his superior had become since he had checked last time, Jollet now directly addressed his patient. “Okay, Dr Beckett, how about joining the living again? Try to open your eyes.” A frown appeared on the Scot’s face but his eyes stayed closed.

“Now, you’re almost there. Try a little harder this time. I’m sure you can do it”, he pressed further. It took a moment before Carson’s eyelids began to flutter.

“You’re doing great! Come on, just a bit more of an effort and I’ll let you rest again.”

“C’mon, doc”, Sheppard chimed in, “show us your pretty, baby blue eyes!” He had tightened his grasp on the good doctor’s hand, spurring him on.

The furrows on the Scot’s brow deepened in concentration, then sluggishly, he pried his right eye half open, only to immediately squeeze it shut again. A few seconds later the faintest shimmer of blue reappeared when Carson’s eyelids lifted once more. With still partially closed eyes, he lazily blinked a few times, attempting to bring his blurry vision of vague shapes into focus. The first face his eyes settled on was Rodney’s but recognition evidently lacked behind by some seconds. When Jollet spoke up, Beckett’s gaze wandered from McKay to Sheppard, where it remained for a moment, before it moved on to his colleague.

“Dr Beckett, do you hear me? Listen, you are still on the vent…”

The exertion of keeping his eyes open against the profound exhaustion being too much for his weak body, the rest of Jollet’s words was lost on him. Comprehension faded with his focus on the world as his glassy eyes drooped, and he slipped back into a peaceful slumber.

Satisfied with his patient’s development, the physician remembered the task at hand and began to busy himself with connecting the dialysis machine. Bending down, he suddenly stopped in mid-movement, straightened and turned around to the men sitting comfortably in the visitor’s chairs. “Gentlemen?” It was more of a request than a question really. Reluctantly John and Rodney took the hint and exited through the curtain.

When Sheppard and McKay wanted to return to their friend’s side, the burly doctor barred the way. “Sorry, Dr Beckett needs some uninterrupted rest now”, he stated raising his hand. Despite his apologetic phrase, his expression was earnest and held no real sympathy. “There’s quite some strain in store for him. He will need all the strength he can gather.” Ignoring the two men’s irate stares, he explained, “As soon as he comes round again and the sedatives have worn off a bit more, we will begin to wean him off the ventilator. Given the amount of time he was in need of life support, this won’t be a piece of cake for him and take a couple of hours. After all, we have to get him to start breathing on his own again, then we’ll gradually decrease the assistance of the respirator and the supply of oxygen before…”

“Thank you for the _very_ graphic description, Doctor!” McKay replied sarcastically, over-pronouncing every single word. “I don’t think I needed to know in _all_ that detail.” Without any reverence at the mildly offended physician, he tugged at the colonel’s sleeve and dragged him away out of the infirmary.

Trudging along, Sheppard offered no resistance. “What’s the matter with you, Rodney?”

“Honestly, Sheppard, this French guy gives me a tension headache before I even see him. I mean why did he have to tell us this in the first place? Not to mention his extremely polite bedside manner. You know, Colonel, he’s no better than this creepy Dr Biro with her hardly contained preference for dead bodies. Actually, I think they’d make a nice, gross couple; like ‘The Munsters’ visiting Atlantis.”

“McKay!” The scientist came to a sudden halt as John refused to take only one more step.

“What?!”

xXxXx

With most of the pain medication out of his system, Carson was fully alert by now. In his right hand he was cradling the plush turtle, which he had found when his fingers had felt for the alarm button. Concentrating on breathing evenly and patting the turtle distracted him a bit from the considerable discomfort he felt, coming especially from the tube in his throat. When he had awoken completely at last, Dr Gitano had begun the weaning process. Starting to breathe on his own again had been a constant struggle at first, and it had weakened him rapidly, several times forcing him to succumb to relying on the ventilator once more. But he had fought his way back, and finally his progression had taken gigantic steps. Even though he was already breathing without the support of a respirator for some time now, he had remained intubated as a precaution should he not be able to keep up spontaneous breathing. Sure enough though, he was positive that very soon someone would come to pull the tube, thus ridding him from the burning sensation in his throat.

Beckett had been overjoyed to see his closest friends assembled around the bed as he had regained consciousness. It had given him the encouraging feeling that they hadn’t left his side all this time, however long it might have been. For someone who had feared he’d never wake up again, getting the opportunity to rejoin with his surrogate family was heaven on Earth, or Atlantis for that matter.

Although they would provide constant support, later however, he had hoped they would simply leave him alone. But neither had he been able to express his wish, nor would he have brought it about himself to send them away. After all, they were his friends and meant well, and he appreciated their presence. But then, he also felt terribly ashamed and embarrassed for what poor an image he presented. He didn’t want them to see him like this, struggling for every single breath while feeling miserable and sorry for himself. At one point, Sheppard had told him how proud they all were of him and his determination, his strength to pull through. Yet, he didn’t feel strong at all, only weak and spent. He wanted to creep into the mattress and hide from the pain and the reassuring stares, retreat into oblivion. But the best part was yet to come. As a doctor he knew exactly what was going to happen when the breathing tube was pulled. He would cough and gag and lose the last bit of dignity he still possessed.

A few minutes afterwards, his expectations had not been disappointed when Dr Cole had appeared to extubate him at the beginning of her night shift. Carson was sure he had rendered a truly pitiful sight as the breathing tube had been removed. As soon as the coughing fit had subsided, defying his sore muscles, he had curled up on his right side, trying to ignore the fuss around him. Sam had gleed about how excellent his oxygen saturation was or the readout of his vitals and that the fever had broken some hours ago.

He hadn’t even recognized his own voice when he had grunted something in the like of “tired”. ‘Yes, grunt was the right word to describe the sound of his voice, dark and rusty from the intrusion and lack of use. They all had looked slightly aghast and offended by his exclamation but had complied, eventually. On her way out, Cole had kissed him on the cheek; well actually, _that_ part he hadn’t minded so much.’

Now, with everybody gone, he allowed the mean façade to slip down. He hugged the plush pet tighter while soft sobs slowly made their way out from deep inside his soul. They ebbed away unheard and unheeded. His stifled emotions draining his quickly depleting strength even further, he soon sank into an uneasy but healing sleep.

All of a sudden, a heart-wrenching scream tore the fragile fabric of silence apart and bled into the darkness of the infirmary.


	14. Chapter 14

Her night shift had been calm so far and without incident. Dr Cole sat in the CMO’s office and shuffled lazily through some files. The frantic stress of the past week had clearly taken its toll on Carson’s colleagues and friends, and now that he was finally on the road to recovery, an immense fatigue had descended upon them. While she vainly attempted to concentrate on her paperwork, reading the same sentence over for the third time already without grasping its content, an agonizing cry shattered the dimly lit quietness beyond the office doors and instantly ripped the tiredness away. The young doctor nearly jumped out of her skin, leapt to her feet and sprinted towards the main ward, trying to discern where the scream had come from. She saw the night nurse hurrying in the direction of the ICU and followed her immediately, a knot forming in her stomach.

Within ten seconds, she joined nurse Chun So Mea at the bed of her boss, who lay there trembling, fists firmly clenched into the blanket and panting heavily. Even in the relative darkness Samantha could see his wide, teary eyes staring in terror at the ceiling. Completely bereft of a sense for reality, he was oblivious to her arrival. Neither did he register her turning on the small lamp above his head, nor her soft, inquiring voice when she couldn’t find any irregularity in the readings of the monitors other than an accelerated heart rate. When Cole took a step towards the head of the bed, the nurse retreated into the background but still staying close enough to assist if she was needed.

“What’s the matter, Carson?” He took no notice of her until she reached out a hesitant hand, placing it comfortingly on his shoulder. “Carson, it’s Sam. What’s the matter? Do you know where you are?”

At last recognizing his surroundings and calming down somewhat, Beckett slowly turned his shining blue eyes towards the concerned voice. “Thirs’y”, he finally rasped, regardless of the question, “’M thirs’y.”

Silently, Dr Cole took the glass of water from the night stand and watched him drink greedily through the straw. “Easy, Carson, easy!” she exclaimed, pulling the glass away. The Scot unsuccessfully tried to press his lips tightly together in order to prevent the straw from slipping out of his mouth. Longing for the wet coolness, which brought heaven-sent relief to his sore throat, he would have tumbled out of bed had the young physician not steadied him in time, pushing him back gently.

“Carson, you are impossible! You really should know better!” Samantha scolded.

Muscles tensing and cursing under his breath, Beckett swallowed twice, savouring the remainder of the liquid salvation. Of course he knew better, logically, but at the moment he yearned to satisfy his need instead of seeing reason.

Ignoring the CMO’s muttered expletives, Dr Cole crossed her arms defiantly in front of her chest, waiting for him to finish. “Done?” she asked stoically after a few seconds of silence. There was no response. “Fine”, she added evenly, then continued in a much softer tone of voice, “What is wrong?”

“Nuth’n’.” Yet, Carson wasn’t able to hold her worried glance. He turned his eyes away, a memory of the earlier terror flickering across them.

With one smooth movement, Samantha took his chin between three tender fingers and turned his face towards her again. “Come on. I’m no fool. There is something wrong with you. I can see it in your eyes, you know? Tell me what happened.”

But when silence was the only response to her enquiries while her superior still avoided direct eye-contact, an unwanted sigh escaped her as resignation settled in. “Fine”, she eventually said coolly, “If you don’t want to talk about it, get back to sleep. You need…”

“No!” Carson interrupted horrified, the force of his exclamation surprising both patient and attending doctor.

Suddenly she understood and the earlier compassion returned to her voice, “Bad dreams?”

The man nodded almost invisibly, but he was finally able to meet her gaze.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she prodded, lightly squeezing his hand.

“No. I cannae”, came the soft reply. “ No’ jus’ yet. Sorry, lass, maybe in a bit.”

“I’ll give you something…”, Cole began. Seeing a protest form on Carson’s mouth, she quickly added, “Only a mild sedative that will help you get back to sleep and chase the nightmares away. Okay?” Already turning to the nurse to order the medication, she was satisfied to note Beckett’s approval, even though she sensed his slight reluctance. A few seconds later, the nurse returned with a syringe. “Thanks, Chun”, the physician murmured, then swiftly injected its contents into the IV port.

Dutifully, her patient snuggled back down into the pillow and waited for the drugs to take effect. When she reached for the switch of the night lamp, Carson caught her hand. “Woul’ ye awfulle min’ leavin’ the light on?” he implored, already slurring the words. Pale blue eyes looked pleadingly up at her. A sympathetic smile crossed her face and she nodded. Fondly watching her boss drift off into a fitful sleep, the young woman guided his hand back to his side. “Good night.”

Then, retreating from the bed, Cole turned her attention to the nurse. “Chun, you can switch off the light when you check on him in fifteen minutes”, she whispered, “I don’t think he’ll mind.”

“Heeard tha’… no’ deafff…”, Carson mumbled dreamily. Leaving the cubicle, the two women exchanged a sheepish look while chuckling quietly at the unexpected answer.

xXxXx

“What exactly do you think _that_ is, Dr McKay?” Jollet’s annoyed voice hollered through the infirmary, not caring that it was still early in the morning.

“Um… breakfast?” the physicist offered, staring innocently at the tray he was carrying. Rodney was truly at a loss what the unfriendly greeting was to imply. “I just thought… you know… Carson and I… um, we… could have breakfast together”, he stuttered. From his bed a few feet away they could hear the Scotsman giggle with joy at the scene that unfolded in front of the half-open curtain. Of course he had already realized what his colleague was aiming at, but obviously McKay, although claiming to be the smartest man in two galaxies, had no clue.

The bulky physician propped his hands up on his hips and sported a menacing face. “And you really think this… _mangeaille_ qualifies as breakfast?”

Rodney couldn’t help but find the man’s bearing rather ridiculous. Still, rubbing up Jollet the wrong way wouldn’t help matters if he wanted to get past the bull-terrier-like physician. So he bit back the comment that had sprung to his mind. “What? …I mean…”, with his free hand he gestured wildly across the contents of the tray. “Um… what’s wrong with donuts, chocolate cake… some Jell-O, muesli bars… oh, and a banana?” To his ever-growing irritation, Carson almost lost it. “Good to know at least _someone_ is having fun here!” The scientist shouted at his friend. “Really want to see your face when I eat it all alone!”

“Dr McKay,” Jollet’s voice was stern, “Dr Beckett had been in a coma for almost a week. Leaving aside the fact I would hardly consider _this_ a healthy breakfast anyway, don’t you think for a first meal we should try something, let’s say _easier_ on the stomach?!”

“Oh”, finally comprehending, Rodney looked down at the food.

“I’ll have the nurse bring Dr Beckett some bread. And he can have the banana but nothing of the other things. Understood?”

“Perfectly”, the physicist acknowledged before strolling towards his waiting friend.

“And you are grinning like a Cheshire cat while that bull-dog of yours treats me like a first grader. Thanks for your generous help.” Rodney put the tray noisily on the night stand. He was most definitely pissed at the fun that was made of him. “At least you seem to be less moody than yesterday when we left.” Carson’s broad smile dropped instantly and McKay knew he should have kept his mouth shut.

Quickly, the physicist struggled for an apology but Beckett cut him off. “Never mind”, he appeased. “Actually, ye’re right. I… Sorry.”

“Forget it”, McKay waved it off with a dismissive gesture. “By the way, are you sure you don’t want any of this?” He pointed to his tray, lifting his eyebrows questioningly. A hint of the former smile returning to his face, Carson shook his head. “Your loss”, the astrophysicist quipped.

The nurse brought a tray with juice and two slices of plain white bread. “Thank ye, Betsy, looks wonderful”, the physician lied, sneaking a longing peek at Rodney’s tray. The action wasn’t lost on the Canadian and he smiled at the dark-haired man with a mix of sympathy and mischief as he saw Carson pick up the first slice, look at it for a second and then beginning to chew on it listlessly.

After finishing the orange juice and half of his bread, Beckett pushed the tray away, leaning back against the head rest which was set high enough to almost allow for a sitting position. “If I keep this down, would ye leave me one of the donuts?” He asked, flashing one of his infamous sheepish smiles even Rodney wasn’t immune against.

Yet, McKay wasn’t willing to let his friend off the hook so easily and feigned shock. “What? You are not suggesting I should ignore your attending doctor’s orders, are you?”

“Traitor!” The man in the bed snapped, but still he couldn’t hide his amusement.

“Well, of course we could arrange something…”

Beckett narrowed his eyes and fixed the scientist with a deadly stare, “What. Do. You. Want, Rodney?”

“Let’s see”, the scientist lightly tapped at his chin as if contemplating, “after you’re out of here, no threats with needles or other pointy objects for at least a month…, and no complaints if I need your help with the chair.”

“Like bloody hell! Completely out of the question!” Carson protested.

“Well, I guess that leaves you the banana. Sorry. But then, I hear it’s much healthier than the other stuff anyway.” ‘Oh man, how he _loved_ pulling Carson’s leg!’ Suddenly his playful smile faded when realization hit him full force just how close he had come to losing that forever.

Stopping his joyful tirade of curses directed at McKay, Beckett frowned. There was something in his friend’s eyes that made his blood turn to ice water. “Rodney?” Carson tried tentatively. But there came no reaction, instead McKay stared unseeingly into the far distance. “Rodney?” This time, the physician’s worried tone was accompanied with a bandaged hand laid on the other man’s shoulder.

“I’m fine”, McKay finally muttered, thoughts returning to the present.

“What’s the matter?”

“What do you mean? It’s nothing.” The forced smile wouldn’t have convinced anyone, much less Carson.

“Really?” Beckett pressed.

“Uh, Carson… can we… um… just _not_ talk…?”

“Sure”, the Scot swallowed hard. The suggestion ripped his soul apart but he knew he wouldn’t get Rodney to speak about it anyway. So, feeling exhaustion creep into every fibre of his self, he sank into the pillow, giving McKay a scrutinizing look before allowing his eyes to droop and quietly enjoying the other man’s company.

He had almost completely drifted off to sleep when Rodney cleared his throat dramatically; yet, what emanated from him was hardly above a whisper. “Carson…?”

“Mmhh…”

“Carson…, we’re… we’re friends, right?” The volume was reduced even further but the voice had tensed.

“’Course we are. Why d’you ask?” The reply was still mumbled but the seriousness in Rodney’s tone ridded him of all sleepiness.

“I… I mean _you_ …”, he broke off, inhaled deeply, then continued, voice ever so softly, “Carson…, you died… I thought you… I… I’d hate to think you didn’t know… that I cared…”

Beckett’s eyes snapped open with a start. He saw the wetness in Rodney’s eyes and couldn’t help but scold himself for having missed that his closest friend was working himself up with guilt over what had happened. He should have known better. “Rodney…, ye daft git”, he teased amiably, “of course I know… Honestly, d’you really think I’d put up with all of your more charming traits and annoyingly irrational behaviour if I didn’t?!”

“But I lied to you about Katie… to get out of the fishing trip.” It was more of a deep sob than a sentence.

“Aye, lad; that you did. And I was mad at you. You knew how much I was looking forward to going fishing. But if you had just been honest and told me you didn’t want to go, it would have been okay, you know? We could have done something else. I love fishing, but I rather wanted to spend my day off with you, Rodney.” Although he hadn’t meant to, his voice had taken an accusing tone. ‘This is not helping!’ he reminded himself as he saw a lonely tear being roughly brushed away. ‘His friend was an emotional wreck already, what had got into him to add to the man’s grief?’

Carson’s consoling tone returned, “Rodney, I’m not _mad_ at you. I was simply a wee bit disappointed but I no longer am.”

“You’re not?” McKay asked incredulously. “But if I had just gone fishing…”

“No. Actually, I’m glad we didn’t go.”

Rodney looked up, searching Carson’s eyes, searching for a white lie but finding only truth. “How can you be glad about it? After all that happened? You nearly died!”

“Aye. And don’t believe I enjoyed being blown up and all, but how many people would have died if I hadn’t been on Atlantis? How do you think I would feel if I hadn’t been here to help? If I hadn’t been there to operate on Teyla when she needed me? Or Watson? I would have beaten myself up if I had gone to the mainland, enjoying my day off…” His voice trailed off, dripping with emotion.

Rodney had long turned his face away, unable to look at Carson, unable to bear the sight of his own feelings being reflected in the Scot’s pale blue eyes, which seemed to stare right into his soul. He was trying hard to disguise his own weeping. ‘Beckett was supposed to be the caring mother hen reacting irrationally emotional on every appropriate or inappropriate situation; he on the other hand was considered the emotionally inapt, cool scientist who was above sentimental feelings.’

Seeing his friend like this tore Carson’s heart in two. Even though his action could potentially get him into a lot of trouble, his right hand carefully slid the needle of the drip out of the IV port on his left arm, silently wincing. The burned skin was still very sensitive to the touch. Then he gently pushed the blanket aside and swung his legs over to the right, hissing as searing pain shot through his left leg. His whole body ached from the strain of the movement but he ignored the throbbing, focussing solely on his objective.

McKay’s eyes went wide seeing his friend sitting on the edge of the bed, obviously ready to attempt something stupid like getting up. “What the hell are you doing? Are you nuts?!” he squeaked while lunging forward. Beckett welcomed the opportunity and drew Rodney closer, pulling him into a tight, consoling embrace. At first, McKay was totally taken aback, too stunned to move, but finally accepted the kind, comforting gesture and leaned in closer, realizing this was what they both needed right now. After a moment of relishing the solace, Rodney lightly patted Carson’s back, “What would your doctor say to this stunt of yours?”

The physician shrugged, “Ach Rodney, I’m my own doctor; and you desperately needed a hug!”

xXxXx

When Carson awoke after a fitful nap, Rodney was gone. He would have loved to know whether the scientist was alright after their heartfelt talk but assumed his friend probably needed some time for himself now to think about everything. The Scot stretched his neglected muscles. Due to the pain meds, a heavy tiredness lingered on but otherwise he felt fine; okay, maybe not _fine_ yet but definitely getting there. Even though he had asked his colleagues repeatedly, none of them had cared to enlighten him about how serious his condition was. ‘He really needed a wee peek at that chart of his and of course the burning sites for that matter! Not, that he didn’t trust his team; after all, every single one was hand-picked and highly qualified – even if Rodney all too often voiced profound doubt regarding the latter. Truthfully, he trusted them with his life – no pun intended –, he just needed to know for himself.’

Looking up as the infirmary’s main doors hissed open, Beckett spotted Teyla come in, carrying a tray with two plates. The Athosian smiled at the doctor while gracefully balancing the tray towards his bed. She casually strolled over as if only by chance having lunch for two on her tray.

“Good afternoon, Dr Beckett”, she greeted cordially. “I hope you are better.”

“Hullo, love. I actually feel _much_ better, thank you.”

“I thought you might be hungry…”

“Are ye kiddin’ me? I’m practically starving!” The single slice of plain white bread in the morning hadn’t nearly been enough to fill his empty stomach, and even though an appreciated gesture, neither had been the donut. He patted the mattress on his right side, “How about joining me for lunch then?”

“I would be honoured, Carson.” Teyla replied as she put the meals on the night stand and handed him a plate with soup.

Inhaling deeply and enjoying the aroma, Beckett enthused, “That smells fantastic! Just lovely! What is it?”

Teyla’s grin broadened, “It is an Athosian speciality, which, if I remember correctly, quite closely resembles your chicken soup. Charin used to cook this soup whenever someone in the family fell ill. It strengthens the weakened body…”

At the mention of cooking and Charin in the same sentence, Carson’s smile fell and he almost dropped his spoon, recalling all too well the taste of Teyla’s poor attempts at rivalling the old woman’s cuisine. A sceptical frown formed on his forehead, giving his forced, apologetic smirk an almost comical touch. He felt terrible for his ill-mannered reaction, sincerely hoping the well-meaning Athosian wouldn’t be offended.

But she laughed at his peculiar face and immediately clarified, “Do not worry, Doctor; I did not prepare it myself. I brought all of this from the mess hall.” Although he tried, Carson couldn’t hide his relief.

xXxXx

For his still somewhat sore throat, the hot, rich soup had been heaven on Earth! – Well, Atlantis, but heaven anyway. In order to get another bowl, he wouldn’t have shied away from selling his firstborn…

Closing his eyes and licking his lips with relish, savouring every trace of the formidable taste, Carson sank back against his pillows as Teyla took the plate from his lap. While she elegantly piled the empty plates, she, without even looking, sneaked a small paper-box into Beckett’s hands and whispered conspiratorially, “Dr McKay sends his best.”

Understanding the hint, Beckett secretly dared a glimpse at the box. He desperately suppressed a loud fit of laughter. Besides the fact that the box conveniently had ‘donut-size’, the word scribbled onto its top in huge red letters was enough to tip him off: BANANAS! Not willing to risk his precious treasure, Carson stifled his outburst to a light chuckle and stashed the dessert away in the night stand.

“Thanks, luv. And tell Rodney, unless he has another close encounter with the Grim Reaper, I don’t see any needles or pointy objects in his near future.”

Teyla looked rather puzzled, not sure what to make of the comment, but eventually replied, “I will deliver your message to Dr McKay.”

They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes before the young Athosian got up. “Is there anything you need?”

“Well, actually”, the physician began hesitantly. Carson knew that his request was putting Teyla in an uncomfortable position. He looked through the half-drawn curtain searchingly, “Is Dr Jollet or any of the nurses around?”

“Do you want me to get someone for you? Is anything wrong?” Concern was engraved in her features.

“No, no”, Beckett appeased her immediately. “Don’t ye worry, lass, I’m fine. I just wanted to know whether anyone was coming over here.”

“No. There is no one in sight right now.” She still had no idea what the Scot was aiming at.

“Good.” Carson paused, then inhaled deeply. When he spoke, he forced his voice to sound as casual as possible, “Teyla, love, would you be so kind as to hand me the chart over there. And give me a wee hint please if anybody approaches.”

“Why should your staff not know that you looked at your chart?” she asked innocently, handing it to him. “You are the CMO.”

Already scanning the pages, he quietly explained, “I don’t think they would be thrilled to see me read in my chart to begin with since I’m officially a patient or meddle in my treatment for that matter. But most importantly, I don’t want them to think I’m controlling and second-guessing their work. It’s not that I don’t trust them or their decisions, I simply need to know what’s up.”

“I see”, Teyla said understandingly. Carson was a healer with all his heart and soul, as much as McKay needed to know about every project his staff was working on, Beckett needed to know how every single patient was. He was too caring a person to let go, even if for a change he himself was the patient.

xXxXx

Feet comfortably propped up on the seat in front of him, Sheppard was lazily slouching on one of the infirmary chairs. It was late at night, everything was quiet and the lights were dimmed. He regarded the restlessly sleeping form in the bed. Beckett was sweating and panting, and occasionally even a stray tear escaped his eyes. Obviously, his friend was suffering from terrible nightmares. He didn’t need a degree in psychiatry to guess what kind of dreams troubled his sleep.

Four times already in as many hours Carson had woken up with a start, shaking like a leaf and gasping for air. But he had never become fully alert or aware of John’s presence before drifting off again at Sheppard’s soothing tone and reassuring hand on his shoulder.

This time however, the Scot had broken free of his torturous dream with a hardly muffled scream. When John put his hand on Carson’s arm, pale blue eyes stared questioningly straight at him.

“Colonel?” Beckett’s voice was slightly trembling. “What are ye doing here, son? It’s the middle of the night or is it?”

“Well, I was just passing by, you know, and thought I’d pay you a visit…”

“Very convincing, Colonel. I’d buy that in a second”, Carson retorted, then more earnestly, “Now, why are you here?”

“You had a bad dream again, right?” John avoided the question, the playful tone completely gone.

“Aye, pretty bad one at that.” He shuddered at the thought of the nightmare that had awoken him.

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Not much te talk about anyway.” Carson closed his eyes and went quiet for a moment. Then he sighed deeply before he softly muttered, “It’s not like I really could remember anything about… you know…”

John didn’t know what to say, yet he sensed talking wasn’t so important, just being there was. He finally whispered, “I can’t possibly imagine what it’s like, but for what it’s worth, I’m here. If you want to talk about it…, and if you don’t want to talk, that’s also okay. Believe me, Carson, the nightmares will go away eventually. But maybe you should follow the advice you’re always so fond of giving and talk to Kate Heightmeier.”

“Ah, ye’re getting cheeky now, are ye?” Beckett crept deeper under his blanket and sank into the pillow, trying to get back to sleep. Several minutes passed in silence before he mumbled dreamily, “John…? Thank you, lad.”

“Any time.”


	15. Chapter 15

With a faint hiss the door slid open and the man clad in a light blue bathrobe shuffled inside. He was limping slightly while he made his way across the room, an unsettling feeling in his stomach. Everything looked familiar, but something was definitely not quite right.

“Why on Earth…,” he muttered irritated as it finally dawned on him what had bothered him the second he had entered his quarters: His belongings, his personal items were just slightly out of place, like someone had tried to rearrange everything ever so subtly that you didn’t notice at once but _felt_ that your things had been touched or moved, which left an extremely disquieting feeling. But as soon as the words left his mouth, his eyes went wide with realization.

“Oh,” came a surprised whisper. For two whole days his friends had believed he had died in the explosion, and they had cleared his quarters to send his personal things back to Earth, along with the empty casket. Beckett immediately pushed away the disturbing thoughts of that scenario. Then, when against all odds they had found him alive, they had put every single item back, trying to remember the exact right spot. Eyes wetting, he looked up with new appreciation. He didn’t even _want_ to think about how hard this must have been for his friends, his surrogate family…

Carson sighed heavily while sitting down on the edge of his bed, then slowly lay back. His muscles tensed a little at the dull ache in his left side. He was tired. Even the ridiculously short distance from the infirmary to his quarters was enough to exhaust him profoundly. Although medically he was doing great and everyone kept assuring him that he needed time to regain his strength, Beckett was becoming impatient. It had been more than a week since he had woken from the coma, he no longer was on heavy-duty painkillers, and still he needed ten to twelve hours sleep a day. But even then, he would feel weak and spent. And all the physiotherapy didn’t help one bit in that respect. It certainly helped with restoring the mobility of his limbs after so long a time of lying in bed, but he always felt utterly worn out after such a session.

Sighing once again, he lifted his hands. The sleeves of the bathrobe fell back and he curiously studied his arms. He knew it could have been worse, _much_ worse. Most of the burns had healed nicely, there would only be few scars. His face and right arm now merely sported the faintest hint of red on them, they almost looked normal again. Even on his left side and back, where he had suffered third degree burns, his team had done a marvellous job treating the wounds and preventing scars. Given time, even those would become less prominent. Furthermore, most of them were usually covered with clothes anyway.

Eyes closing and letting his arms fall onto the bed above his head, he inhaled deeply and took in the most welcome silence of the room. A mischievous grin crossed his face as he thought of someone eventually noticing his absence. ‘They all had dealt with Sheppard’s antics of escaping from the infirmary often enough, they certainly could handle his. Well, he’d probably be in for a decent dressing down once they found him but he didn’t care. He desperately longed for a peaceful moment to himself.’

During the past week, he hardly remembered a minute none of his friends and colleagues had been present. They had hovered around him for every meal, the time in between meals and even watched his sleep because they knew of his nightmares. He appreciated their fussing, he really did and knew they all meant well. But he just couldn’t take it any longer! At first he had deeply enjoyed their reading his every wish from his eyes; yet finally, this treatment had become more and more unnerving. Enough was enough. Especially Rodney had been infuriatingly nice and kind. Yesterday, even at the risk of sounding ungrateful and hurting the man’s feelings, Beckett had tried to get rid of McKay, and not too gently for that matter. It had been to no avail whatsoever; the scientist had amicably patted him on the shoulder and told him with an understanding smile that his cranky behaviour and mood swings were solely due to his troubled sleep and the traumatizing events of the last two and a half weeks. Rodney would never know just how close Carson had come to letting out one frustrated scream of unprecedented dimensions! Instead he had settled back against his pillow in defeat and endured the continued mollycoddling. Today he had fled.

Beckett flinched at the unexpected sound of the chiming doorbell. Relaxing a little, he waited for whoever was in front of the door to go away. They couldn’t possibly be certain he actually was in here. Yet, shattering Carson’s hopes, the doorbell chimed for the second time.

After less than ten seconds of silence, an urgent voice called, “Come on, Doc! I know you are in there!” It was Colonel Sheppard. “Open the door, before anyone sees me here”, he tried to lure him.

‘Busted!’ A deep sigh escaped his mouth and he reluctantly willed the door open to let John enter. The colonel strolled casually inside and sat down on the bed while Beckett moved into a sitting position. Trying to read the other man’s expression, he was studied curiously in return.

“So?” Carson finally broke the silence.

“So what?” John asked back.

“I take it I’m busted and ye are now my escort to the infirmary, right?” Beckett raised a hopeful eyebrow when the pilot only shrugged but didn’t move. “Ye’re not?”

“Well, e-ven-tua-lly.” Sheppard lengthened the last word almost beyond recognition while stretching out his legs. A painful expression crossed his face and he hoped it had gone undetected by his friend.

“What’s the matter, lad?” Carson immediately shifted into doctor-mode and gave him a scrutinizing look-over.

“It’s nothing, doc, really”, Sheppard said, putting on his hopefully most convincing smile. Before the physician was able to voice his disbelief, he continued, “Teyla and I were sparring. She thought it was about time to start my training again. I didn’t want to discourage her because she – you know – is still not on the top of her game. Therefore, being a gentleman and all, I let her win.”

“She kicked your ass”, Carson deadpanned with a devilish grin.

John cringed, “That’s a _very_ harsh way of putting it… and not true by the way!” he added instantaneously.

“Of course, Colonel.” The sardonic blaze in the Scot’s blue eyes had yet to find their match.

“Anyway. What about you, doc? You okay?” John threw him a sideways glance when Beckett sank back into a lying position with an exasperated groan. “Is that a ‘yes’?” the pilot teased.

“Aye.”

“Really, you should have seen the fuss in the infirmary when they found you were gone. I never knew the Mexican doc – what’s his name – could turn that shade of red. I don’t envy you the riot act he’s gonna read you.” Sheppard couldn’t suppress a broad smile reminiscing the scene.

“Gitano; and he’s actually Columbian not Mexican,” Beckett corrected, and even he wasn’t able to hide a sheepish smile at the thought. “I don’t know why they’re making such a drama out of going for a wee walk by myself. They’ll be releasing me tomorrow anyway, for Christ’s sake. I’m no bloody baby! I just needed some… air.”

“You don’t have to tell _me_ , Carson. I totally know what you mean. And I hope you remember that next time _I’m_ on the run.”

“No promises, Colonel.”

“Alright”, Sheppard got up from the bed. “You know what, doc? I’ll come back in twenty minutes and then I’ll find you officially.” He sauntered across the room and exited the Scot’s quarters without looking back, leaving one puzzled Carson Beckett staring after him.

xXxXx

“Where the bloody hell is everybody?!” Beckett’s annoyed voice rang through the almost empty infirmary. Only a few nurses were running around the main ward, purposefully avoiding eye contact with their boss, who was way too grumpy for their liking. It was almost noon and Dr Gitano should have released him hours ago but the man was nowhere to be seen. Fully dressed for leaving, Carson sat back down on the side of his infirmary bed.

After another ten minutes of waiting, the irate Scot huffed with rising volume, “If you don’t show up within the next minute, Manuel, I’ll sign the paper myself!”

Said doctor hurried out of Beckett’s office right on cue towards the impatiently waiting man. “Sorry I let you wait, Carson, but I had to finish some fixing-up.”

“In my office?” came the incredulous reply.

“Yes, well… not so important. I sought you want to go and not to listen to a boring explanation.” Gitano had found Carson’s soft spot.

“Can I finally go then?” Beckett implored.

“Yes. And remember, se only time any of us wants to see you even near se infirmary is for your check-up every second day. Understood?” The Columbian doctor fixed a stern look at his patient.

“Fair enough, Manuel”, Carson conceded. “After being in here for so long, I think I can do a few days without it. But keep in mind to call me when there’s an emergency and you need help.” He hopped from the bed and prepared to leave.

“Certainly not”, his colleague mumbled while signing the document in the chart. Looking up he added, “There’s one more sing, Carson.” Beckett froze in his step, slowly facing the other doctor. “I want someone accompany you on your way. One of your friends is coming here.”

Carson slumped his shoulders and shook his head in disbelief, “Ye’re not serious, are ye?” To his dismay, he found no trace of amusement in the older man’s face. Moments later, the door slid open and revealed Ronon’s impressive figure. “You must be kidding me! Did you call for company or a warden?” Beckett hissed almost inaudibly.

“Hi, doc”, the Satedan greeted amiably, “You ready?”

Not dignifying the question with an answer, Carson went past Ronon, knowing the tall warrior would be right on his heels. In fact, he had caught up with the still slightly limping physician before he had reached the infirmary door, where, stepping out into the corridor, both turned in different directions. Ronon gave a soft chuckle and even Beckett had a hard time keeping his face relatively straight.

“Where are ye going, son? My quarters are _that_ way”, he underlined his statement by pointing his thumb into the general direction of his room.

“It’s lunch time, doc”, the Satedan clarified, “Aren’t you hungry?”

“Alright, lad, let’s get you a snack from the mess hall.”

While walking down the corridor, the Scot could feel Ronon’s eyes resting on him. “Your leg getting better?” He asked eventually.

“Aye. Don’t ye worry, son. A wee bit more PT and I’ll be as right as rain.”

For the rest of the way they remained quiet. Although usually not exactly of the non-communicative type himself, after his run-in with Gitano the previous day and today’s resulting exercise in patience before his official release, Beckett wasn’t in the mood for conversation and welcomed the silence. Thankfully, Rodney hadn’t been assigned to keeping him company.

They picked up some sandwiches at the commissary, with Ronon adding two packages of crisps and chocolate chips cookies to his tray, before heading back to Carson’s quarters.

By the time the two of them arrived at Beckett’s door, the Scot was evidently drained from having to keep up with the Satedan’s well-paced stride. He was looking forward to finding some peace and rest while possibly reading a book or just relaxing in the comfortable armchair, listening to one or the other CD. Yet, the second the door to his quarters slid open, his smile fell and his jaw dropped in utter astonishment.

A deafening chorus of “Welcome back home, Carson!” greeted him, along with roughly a dozen broadly smiling faces of his closest friends. Above his bed hung a bright yellow banner with rainbow-coloured letters spelling ‘Welcome home!’, and in the far corner of the room several tables laden with finger-food promised to leave none of his guests hungry. The Scot’s bright, baby blue eyes blazed with joy as he took the first small step through the door. But when the bag-piper right next to the door softly started intoning ‘Join this parade’, Carson struggled with his tears and was not at all ashamed to admit that he failed miserably.

Once inside, the good doctor was instantly consumed by a storm of well-wishes, hugs, respectful pats on the shoulder and gifts. Being overwhelmed, the impressions blurred, leaving him in a haze where it was impossible to keep track of every single detail. He caught a glimpse of the painting Lorne had been working on last time they had met, then was distracted by Colonel Caldwell shaking his hand. Out of the corner of one eye, he saw Rodney’s brow furrow as Katie planted a long kiss on Carson’s cheek. Suddenly, a cheerful face swam into his vision, out of excitement babbling in Czech while almost crushing him in a heartfelt embrace before shoving into his hands a DVD of “The Chorus – Les Choristes”, a movie the scientist had won from Jacque Jollet in a chess match.

After the wave of greetings had washed over him and he was allowed some air to catch his breath, Teyla, Elizabeth and John led him over to one of the tables and proudly explained that Atlantis’ chef had tried to make Haggis from ingredients available in the Pegasus Galaxy, and he, Carson, was now granted the honour of opening the buffet. Not even having swallowed the first bite, he realized that the Haggis was terrible to say the least, but knowing that his friends looked at him expectantly, he wolfed it down, sporting a deceivingly flattered smile. The taste was not important, the kind gesture was!

Finally, after hours of celebrating, Beckett felt dead on his feet; in fact, he couldn’t even fathom how he had been able to stay up for so long. He eased himself down into the cosy, inviting armchair, three pairs of eyes throwing him concerned looks from various places in his room as he did so. ‘Just a wee bit tired’, he mouthed silently. Obviously understanding, they all returned to their respective conversations, satisfied. For a moment, Carson stared pensively around the room. He was surrounded by his closest friends, and this party had touched him more deeply than he would ever be able to express. His intense blue eyes shone brighter than ever. Leaning back and fondly taking in the scenery, a new set of tears began streaming down his beaming face. At last, he reluctantly let his weary eyelids drop, drifting into a blissful sleep that, for the first time in weeks, would not be troubled by nightmares.

**FIN**

**Author's Note:**

> ~ Muchísimas gracias to my twin sister [Twinchy](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Twinchy/) for the beta!
> 
>  **First Published:** 14/02/ - 07/07/2007


End file.
